


Three Angels Walk Into a Bar

by 29PiecesOfMe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 11, Alternate Universe, Angelic Possession, Archangels, BAMF Castiel, Castiel Whump, Evil Lucifer, Family Feels, Gabriel to the Rescue, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Possessed Castiel, Protective Gabriel, Protective Winchesters, Saving the World, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-07-26 23:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 55,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7594102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/29PiecesOfMe/pseuds/29PiecesOfMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer can't take on Amara by himself. Michael is useless, but there's another archangel that he might turn to - one who is none too happy about his big brother parading around in Castiel's body. Oh, or that whole thing where Cas is being tortured instead of left alone. Even if they beat Amara, how are they supposed to rescue Cas when the Devil holds all the cards? S11 AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This is the Story of an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello, my friends! This story is mostly Aini NuFire's fault, haha. She's the one who sent the plot bunny my way, as well as being a great beta reader for this, so many thanks for that! This is an AU, set in season 11 right after Beyond the Mat - Crowley has only recently escaped Lucifer, and the boys have found out that their angel has been taken over. It just seemed to me that Lucifer was taking it easier on Cas than I would have imagined, so I re-wrote the rest of the story with a little more whump, and a lot more archangel ;)
> 
> Also, I love Chuck, I do, but he won't really be featuring in this particular AU. This fic was born before he showed back up, so he wasn't written into it, haha.
> 
> I don't own any canon Supernatural characters. Enjoy!

 

The hunt for the Darkness wasn't making any progress at all, and Lucifer was getting annoyed. The weapons brought to him by the demons were more or less worthless, his own strength—magnificent though it was—wouldn't be enough to cut it, and Amara was probably getting stronger every day.

Not to mention that his favorite pet, Crowley, had escaped, and the Winchesters still weren't dead. What he needed was a win. Several thoughts had been turning over in the dark archangel's mind… Dean Winchester's connection to Amara, for one. The realization that he would probably need back up after all, and that his options there were slim, was irritating.

Shadows flickered on the wall of the crypt, flames from the torches dancing off the bronze and gold weapons that had been piled in one corner. A handful of demons lined the stone walls, talking quietly amongst themselves. In his chair, set up on a dais like a throne, Lucifer rubbed his forehead.

"Why has no one brought Crowley back yet?" he demanded out loud, bringing a nervous hush from the demons in the crypt. One was nudged forward by the others as the elected spokesperson; it gulped, looked around for help, then stammered,

"My- my lord, we're doing… everything we can to find him."

"Really?" Lucifer asked, raising an eyebrow. "Looks to me like you're all just standing there." He got to his feet, and the demons shrank back in fear. Lucifer smiled, prowling closer. "So… new plan. You lot, get out there. And when you come back, you'd better have either Crowley, another heavenly weapon, or the Winchesters. I need something to kill. So I'd suggest you not come back empty handed or I'll have to improvise."

The demons traded looks, baffled and fearful in the muted light, but didn't seem eager to make a move. Lucifer rolled his eyes, then pointed to the exit.

"Now!"

They scrambled for the door, pushing and shoving in their haste to escape his impatience. Soon, the Devil was alone in the crypt. He moved back towards his chair, a deep glower etched into the borrowed face he wore. And speaking of this borrowed body…

"Castiel?" he drawled, the glare smoothing into a smug expression. "Something you want to say? I feel you squirming around. Here… we're alone, I'll take the gag off for a minute."

The Devil shifted inwards, into Castiel's mind where both of their souls existed. The outer world faded slightly, a luminescent, shimmering image cast onto the mirrors that surrounded the small prison he'd created in the lesser angel's mind. Castiel was kneeling in the center, inside a sigil Lucifer had drawn on the floor of the mind-realm. A heavy yoke laid across his shoulders, manacles attached to either end that locked Castiel's hands outspread, while a silver strip of cloth was bound over his mouth to keep him quiet. The lesser angel flinched but didn't shrink back as Lucifer reached towards him and pulled the gag down.

"Don't," Castiel rasped as soon as he was able. His expression darkened as he glared up at Lucifer. "Don't hurt the Winchesters, or…"

"…Or?" Lucifer repeated, waiting with an expectant grin. He raised his eyebrows. "You'll do… what, exactly?"

The lesser angel didn't seem to have an answer, though there was still a spark of defiance in his gaze that amused and irritated the Devil. He shook his head, turning his back on the imprisoned angel to look out of the mirrors into the crypt where their physical body sat.

"You know, I still don't get you," he said, hands tucked into his pockets. "I mean, I've seen your memories with them. They _clearly_ don't care that much about you. So why this blind devotion?"

"They're my friends," Castiel ground out from behind him, though his voice was labored and his breaths heavy. "I can do… this much."

"Yeah, no, I've seen your great plan," Lucifer reminded him, turning back around with a dark smile as he tapped the side of his head. "Don't forget, I'm up here. I've heard your thoughts. You figured, what, you and I would save the world, then you'd hold me off long enough for Sam and Dean to take me out, right? That was the idea?"

The lesser angel paled, and Lucifer savored the panic in Castiel's eyes. He chuckled. "You thought I didn't know? You're right about one thing, though. They _would_ try. Now, if it was dear Sammy they'd have to sacrifice…" He tilted a hand back and forth, wincing to show doubt. "That'd be a tough one. But since it's just you… yeah. They wouldn't hesitate. Wouldn't even blink."

He grinned when Castiel looked away, jaw clenched. It was that exact sort of feeling that had made the lesser angel willing to be a vessel at all, so hey… Lucifer would play it up.

"Here's the thing," he said, strolling casually around the bound angel. "They fear me way more than they care about you. So you're pretty much screwed. Anyway, doesn't matter. As soon as I've dealt with the Darkness, they're next on the list. And believe me, I'm going to _enjoy_ stripping the flesh off their bones and feeding it to them, one piece at a time."

"No. I won't let you," Castiel snarled, making Lucifer laugh louder.

"I- I'm sorry," he said, wiping at his eyes. "But…" The Devil paused to chuckle again. "Sometimes, you- you just say the cutest things. No, you don't have a choice. Interfering is what landed you in this position to begin with." He gestured to the yoke and chains, shrugging. He could have killed the damn Winchesters already if Castiel hadn't temporarily stolen control back, but Lucifer had ensured that wouldn't be happening a second time.

"I'll revoke my permission," the lesser angel warned, shifting against the weight of the yoke. Lucifer snorted.

"Good luck with that," he drawled. "I mean, you're pretty much useless. You're a nice little reservoir of grace to keep our body healed, but you're not nearly strong enough to kick me out… and you know it."

Castiel exhaled a ragged breath, sweat beading at his temples. He caught Lucifer's gaze again, but didn't argue. The archangel could hear Castiel's thought of agreement, though, which was satisfying enough to make up for the loss of his pet demon. Lucifer smiled again, looking around the mind-prison with an approving nod.

"Gotta say, it never occurred to me to use an angel as a vessel, but I kinda like this arrangement. I mean, we don't even have to drink demon blood to keep our body strong… as long as you keep healing it."

After all, it took a lot of power to keep the vessel they were in from exploding under the pressure of bearing two angels, one of which was himself. Healing was normally automatic for an angel… but this wasn't a normal situation. It took effort, but fortunately he had a captive copilot.

"You could… help," Castiel complained. His hands clenched and unclenched in their chains, but they and the sigil he was in kept him from moving around much. "I- I can't… it's draining me."

"That's the idea," Lucifer pointed out, rolling his eyes. "You just keep healing us, Castiel. Keeps you at low power, less able to cause any more trouble. Besides, makes sense for me to keep my grace at full, so I can wipe out the Darkness. I mean, that _was_ the whole point of you saying yes, right?"

"Then why haven't you made a move? I can't keep this up forever."

"Oh, I know," the archangel agreed. "No need to worry. When you're just about tapped out, I'll give you a little refill so you can start all over. We could pretty much do this indefinitely." Which was, of course, the plan. Though, the permanent state of exhaustion would probably destroy Castiel's mind after enough millennia, but that was what happened to angels who sided against Lucifer.

The lesser angel slumped down again, his entire mind reeking deliciously of despair, which made Lucifer laugh and reach out. Castiel didn't meet his eyes as the Devil cupped his chin, pulling his face upwards.

"Poor little angel," Lucifer crooned. "Can't even sacrifice yourself properly, huh?"

Castiel's throat bobbed, a fine tremor wracking his body under Lucifer's fingertips. It gratified the archangel that Castiel was this easy to torment, relieving some of his own frustration. Releasing his grip on his brother, Lucifer stepped back and looked around at the mirrored walls. He lazily shifted the scene displayed on them one panel at a time.

"You know," he said, as the view of the crypt was replaced by the interior of the bunker bit by bit, "I keep seeing this in your mind. What's got you so fixated on this place?"

Castiel shifted, a spark of anger lighting his face. "Stay out of my head."

"Says the one who literally invited me in," Lucifer shot back with a snicker. With a wave of his hand, the archangel brought up ghostly images of the tables and bookshelves, which solidified around them until the two angels seemed to actually be in the Men of Letters bunker.

When Lucifer glanced at Castiel again, the angel couldn't have looked more downtrodden, hands subtly straining to free themselves of the manacles. Lucifer let him stew for a second, before exclaiming with delight,

"That's right, this was supposed to be your… what's the word? Safe house! You thought this would be a _home_ for you at last… right? I mean, you had nowhere _else_ to go. So, uh…" He cocked his head, grinning. "How did that work out? Did you get your home sweet home? I'm guessing not, since you ended up _here_."

"Stop it."

Seriously, it was too easy. Lucifer grinned, strolling along the bookshelves, eyeing the titles from Castiel's memory. One lazy finger dragged along the spines as he went, letting the books smolder and then catch fire, until the entire line of bookshelves was burning.

"Look at that," Lucifer said, eyeing his handiwork as he came back to stand beside Castiel, giving the angel a hard nudge with his foot. "It's symbolic, right? All your dreams going up in smoke."

He grinned at the crackling sound of dusty old pages burning to a crisp, mixed with the increased distress in Castiel's labored breaths. Lucifer let the vision continue, the fire spreading to the floor and climbing up to the ceiling. Plaster and ash rained down on them as the bunker began to collapse, erasing whatever place of "safety" the lesser angel had thought he was getting.

"Stop," Castiel growled again, almost tearful but not quite. "Just… just stop."

Lucifer shrugged, then waved his hand again. The fire disappeared, revealing the bunker unscathed. "You're right," he decided. "There's a lot of knowledge stored in here. Seems a shame to let it all go to waste. Maybe after I kill the Winchesters, I'll take their home. You'd get to live in it after all, Castiel! Just… with me. See? I can be nice."

He smirked down at the lesser angel, who didn't appear to share this sentiment. Lucifer stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking around the room. "Maybe I won't even kill them," he decided. "With Crowley in the wind, I've lost my dog. If you groveled _really_ nicely, maybe I could be persuaded to give them his spot. What do you think?"

Castiel didn't answer, but turned away with a glower. The yoke on his shoulders creaked as he pulled at the restraints, but he wasn't going anywhere. The lack of response irritated Lucifer, though. He slammed a hand onto the heavy yoke, making the lesser angel jump with a soft gasp.

"That was a question," Lucifer pointed out, voice deadly calm as he twisted the wooden bar so that Castiel was forced to tip his head up and look at him. "Would you rather I keep them alive? I'd do it, I swear. Ask me to make the Winchesters my new puppies and leave them crawling around on all fours like Crowley, licking up their food from a bowl. I'd do that for you, Castiel, because I _care_ about your happiness."

Still, the angel said nothing, just glared at him with jaw visibly clenched. Lucifer's smile spread, icy and dangerous. Nothing would be so satisfying as to hear Castiel actually plead for him to keep those precious pets of his on a leash, especially because Lucifer was certain the humans would prefer death to that kind of degradation.

"Nothing?" he asked with a mock pout. "Come on, _Cas…_ a little groveling goes a long way. You could save them."

"When this is over," the lesser angel finally answered, steady and cool. "The Winchesters will kill us both. I believe in them."

Lucifer sighed. "You're no fun."

"Crowley was right, wasn't he?"

The sudden change in topic made Lucifer frown, crossing his arms as he regarded the captive angel. "Meaning?"

Teeth gritted, Castiel ground out, "I only said yes because you told me you could defeat the Darkness. I thought we were going to fight her, to bring this to an end. All you've done is sit around and gather weapons that won't work and make vague threats about 'after'. Crowley was right… you're not strong enough, are you?"

Lucifer's face tightened, Castiel's captured angel blade slipping into his hand. Again, the lesser angel flinched as the tip of the blade pressed against his cheek.

"You know," Lucifer suggested, sliding the blade to Castiel's mouth. "Instead of gagging you, I could always just cut out your tongue." He twitched as though to make the cut, smirking when Castiel inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. "I will defeat the Darkness. I have a plan. Something I was hoping could be avoided, but… it seems I could use some backup."

And on that subject, Castiel was losing his entertainment value. Time to get what he'd come in for in the first place.

The blade disappeared as Lucifer pressed his hand against the lesser angel's forehead instead. Castiel grunted and tried to squirm away.

"What are you doing?" he asked in alarm. "Lucifer… wait!"

"Like I said," the archangel snapped, gripping the yoke with his free hand to hold Castiel still. "I have a plan. But it's going to take a lot of power, so… I'll be siphoning yours."

"No, I can't heal us if I lose much more!"

Light flooded the room, beaming out from beneath Lucifer's hand as heavenly energy slid from Castiel into the archangel. He could feel his brother weakening, but didn't stop until he'd drained enough to bolster his own stores considerably, enough to accomplish what would be no easy feat. Pure energy filled his veins, and Lucifer laughed, high with the sheer feeling it brought.

"Oh, Castiel," he exclaimed, pulling his hand away and chuckling again as the lesser angel slumped and nearly toppled. "I'm _so_ glad you agreed to this."

"L-Lucifer…" Castiel whispered, eyelids fluttering as sweat dripped down his pallid face. "Please, I'm… almost out…"

"You'll be fine. As soon as I've done what I need to, I'll give you a little top-up as a reward, okay?" Lucifer grinned and patted the top of Castiel's head, pleased and energized. He paused, though, catching sight of the back of his hand with a frown. Spots. The skin was starting to peel. Raising an eyebrow, he pointed out, "Uh, that doesn't mean you get to stop healing us. No slacking, because if we die now, then the Darkness still wins and kills your humans, and then all of this was for nothing. Shake a leg, Castiel, I left enough for you to keep working."

"I… I'm trying…"

"Try harder," Lucifer suggested with a shrug. "I'll be back soon. Meantime, you don't need the distraction of everything going on out there."

A snap of his fingers, and the image of the bunker disappeared. Blackness blanketed the room in impenetrable pitch until the only source of light was Lucifer himself, radiant with the splendor he'd had of old. The archangel smiled, turning to Castiel.

"I've muted the sound, too," he explained. "So don't bother trying to eavesdrop. Just do your job while you still have any value to me."

"Why… why are you doing this?" the depleted angel whispered, head still bowed as he fought to hold their body together.

Lucifer leaned down, shoving the silver cloth between Castiel's teeth so there'd be no concern of him speaking through their vessel's mouth. Then, he gripped the angel's chin once again, forcing his drooping head up.

"Because," he answered with a dangerous smile. "I'm the Devil. And you knew that when you let me in."

With his retreat, the light also retreated. Lucifer pressed his consciousness back out of Castiel's mind, into the waking world, leaving the captive angel alone in absolute darkness and silence with his feebly flickering grace.


	2. And Everything He Suffered

"Dean… maybe we should take a break."

He could hear the voice, sort of, but only in the way that one would hear a meaningless, distorted loudspeaker at a crowded train station. The book was open on the desk in front of him, but the page was blurred. Dean wasn't even sure how long he'd been staring sightlessly down at it.

"Dean!"

With a sigh, the hunter slowly brought his attention and his gaze to the giant standing beside him. Sam was frowning with concern and pity—neither of which were welcome, but Dean didn't have the energy or the care to feel anything about it.

"What?" he finally snapped. Dean rubbed his face, as though that would erase the images that had been plaguing his memory: Cas. Only, it wasn't Cas. That horrible grin on his face wasn't Cas. That delighted, bloodthirsty spark in his eyes wasn't Cas. The voice, the posture, the way he tried to _kill_ them, none of it was Cas.

No, when Dean closed his eyes, it wasn't Cas he saw, but Lucifer.

"Hey man, you gotta snap out of this."

Sitting back in the seat, shrugging away from his brother at the same time, Dean sighed again and asked, "Snap out of what, Sam?"

"This. You've been sitting there like a zombie all week. You're not sleeping. I know you're worried about Cas, but he's tough. He'll hang in there until we figure this out. And we _will_ figure it out. I know we will."

Dean laughed once, without any humor. "You know that, huh? That what you know? Well, good on you, Sammy. Must be nice being so sure. But hey, he's tough, so, you know, who cares that _Lucifer_ has him right now, and he's probably pissed, but yeah Cas will be fine."

There was a pause. Dean finally looked up at Sam again to see a look of confusion on his brother's face. The older hunter looked away, shaking his head. That had been uncalled for. He knew perfectly well that wasn't what Sam had meant. Dean braced for a justifiably angry retort, but all Sam said was,

"Dude... are you drunk?"

Dean rolled his eyes and pushed his chair back. "No. I'm not drunk." Although he would like to be, if only he had the energy to track down that much booze. "What I am is _tired._ I'm tired, Sammy. Tired of Lucifer, and Amara, and all this 'end of the world' _crap_ that always seems to fall on _us_. And now we've lost our best friend…"

He trailed off, standing up and walking away from the long desk. Sam was silent. Dean took a breath, closing his eyes again… but all he saw was Sam, on the floor, looking terrified. _"Dean! That's not Cas!"_ And they hadn't even noticed. They hadn't even suspected something was wrong, not once.

At least Cas was still in there; he'd stopped Lucifer from killing Sam after all… but Dean knew what happened to people who got in Lucifer's way. Memories of being beaten nearly to death in Stull Cemetery had yet to fade, after all.

Bile rose in Dean's throat at the thought of Cas suffering something like that, or worse.

And Cas wouldn't even try to fight back, because he had apparently chosen this, wouldn't lift a damn finger to stop Lucifer or kick him out. He would finish what he had started, even if it killed him-and it probably would. Dean had never felt so helpless.

"Who are we kidding, man?" he asked out loud. "We're in over our heads this time, Sammy. I can't kill Amara. We can't save Cas. No one can find God. And I'm just tired. I'm tired of losing the people we care about, tired of watching our friends _die_."

"Okay, _stop_."

The fierceness in Sam's voice made Dean pause. A hand grabbed his arm, spinning him back around to face his brother once again. The younger Winchester's eyes burned with moisture, which he blinked away, and his jaw clenched with emotion as he shook his head.

"Don't you dare," Sam bit out. The rough edges in his voice caught slightly, making Dean frown.

"What?"

"Don't bury him before he's dead!" Sam snapped. "You're talking like he's already gone. He's _not_. Cas is still in there, Dean, so stop _mourning_ him and get back to trying to _save_ him! He's my best friend, too, and if you think for a second that I'm gonna leave him alone with Lucifer, when I _know_ what the Devil can do to his vessel…"

Sam shook his head, breathing heavily. Dean swallowed and looked away, knowing that Sam was right.

But… "Sammy, what more can we actually _do_?" he asked, shrugging with hands outspread. "We've been through these books already, twice. There's _nothing_ that can get Lucifer out of him. There's no answers in there, okay? So what does that leave? Huh? Sam… if you have _any_ idea, I'm listening. Anything."

Sam's brow furrowed briefly, but not with hope. Dean knew his brother had nothing either. Pulling away, Dean turned towards the stairs. He needed some air.

"I'll tell you what we _don't_ do," Sam called after him. "We don't give up. Not on family. Not ever. You hear me?"

Dean stopped, then half glanced over his shoulder back at his brother. It was just like Sam to still be holding so tightly to this faith, in spite of everything. He was right. But flipping through books in search of the tiniest detail that might help had never been Dean's cup of tea. He was a man of action, and he needed something to _do_.

"I'm gonna make a food run," he said simply. "Want anything?"

Sam looked away, probably thinking Dean was just brushing him off. Turning fully back around, Dean relented. "I hear you, Sammy." He waited until his little brother had caught his eye again, then he half-heartedly lifted one corner of his mouth. "I'm not quitting on him. I don't see a lot of hope here… but you're right. So… you know… thanks."

He could see Sam straighten slightly, some weight shifting off his shoulders. At least Dean could do _that_ much. Needing a long drive and a cold beer, the hunter hurried on his way up the stairs to the car. It wouldn't do much good but at least maybe it would help take the edge off enough for him to come back at this with a clear head.

As he drove down the road, though, Dean was having a hard time keeping his focus. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be furious with Cas for letting the Devil in, but at the moment he was mostly just terrified. Cas had sacrificed himself to give the world a chance, a classic Winchester move. But those sacrifice plays tended to lead to only one place, and that was death.

That very real possibility haunted Dean. He took a deep breath, and then, like he had done a hundred times since learning what Cas had done, he prayed.

"Cas? Look, I get it. I do. Hell, you think there's anything I wouldn't do for you or Sammy? But this isn't the way. Sam told me you chose this, but we'll think of something else. You don't have to do this, you hear me?"

That was the frustrating part—well, _one_ of the frustrating parts. For all Dean knew, Cas wasn't hearing him at all. His prayer was addressed to his best friend and _only_ his best friend, but if Lucifer was in his head, literally, would he be able to hear it, too? Worse, what if he had Cas locked down so tight that he couldn't hear prayers at all?

"You just hang in there, buddy," he murmured again. "Cas, promise me you'll hold on. We're gonna find you. And we're gonna rip that scaly bastard out of there if it's the last thing we do." And he hoped Lucifer _did_ hear that one. "We're gonna bring you home, you damn idiot, so whatever's happening, you'd just better stay alive."

* * *

Castiel struggled to keep holding on at all, but the hope of a blissful death in the end kept him strong. He just had to keep reminding himself that Dean and Sam _would_ do the right thing, that they needed his sacrifice in order to survive. A selfish part of him was glad they at least knew he was being possessed by Lucifer, that he hadn't just abandoned them to do whatever it was the archangel was doing. Castiel couldn't see or hear anymore to know.

It tortured him, not knowing what was happening. He'd half expected the Winchesters would at least pray once or twice, even if only to berate him for his actions, and he'd glean some idea of how close they were to ending this. They had been silent, though, perhaps no longer wishing to speak to him.

On the other hand, Lucifer could have easily been intercepting messages and preventing Castiel from hearing them.

The yoke across his shoulders was unbearably heavy. Castiel shifted his weight, back screaming with the need to set the burden down, but he was stuck like this. The chains were chafing his wrists raw, and exhaustion threatened to pull him under, into a state of unconsciousness that no angel should even be able to experience.

At least Lucifer had returned to pour some healing power back into him, though the angel had blacked out first, succumbing to darkness after his strength was drained completely. The archangel must have taken over healing for a brief while until Castiel recovered. Of course, it had made Lucifer even surlier. Castiel had tried to ask what he had done with so much power, but the archangel merely replied that Castiel's only purpose was to keep Lucifer's vessel whole, not to ask questions.

The fact that Lucifer was now referring to it as "his" vessel instead of "theirs" scared Castiel.

And now the gag was back on, the silver cloth stifling his true voice as well as his physical one, so that Castiel couldn't call out to any other angels who might be around for help once Amara was defeated.

Not that any would come if he called, as hated as he was.

Around him now, the mirrored walls of his prison began to shift. Castiel tried to straighten against his burden, swallowing in dismay. He could always tell when Lucifer was bored out in the real world, because then he would start to toy with Castiel.

Sometimes he would change the prison walls to reflect the Cage, making it appear that Castiel was in Hell, surrounded by demons taunting him. These occasions varied by whether Castiel was alone in torment, or if other angels were there in cages of their own, the Host of Heaven defeated and enslaved by Lucifer's army.

Sometimes, Castiel was in the bunker, held prisoner in the place he'd been foolish enough to believe would be his shelter. Sam and Dean would pass by at times, navigating around the chained angel as though they couldn't see him, or they simply didn't care that he was there. Sometimes the bunker would start to burn again, falling down around him as the Winchesters fought to save the important things but bypassed Castiel completely.

If nothing else, the yoke that weighed him down with dark intent served as a constant reminder of what was real: he was Lucifer's captive, which meant these were only visions to torture him for the archangel's entertainment. Castiel never believed what he saw or doubted where he truly was.

Besides, the images always evaporated in the end, when Lucifer was focusing on whatever was happening out there, and that was even worse than the visions. Alone in the dark, utter silence his only companion, Castiel felt the tendrils of insanity brushing against his mind. He was numb from being locked in the same position for so long, which meant almost complete sensory deprivation. It was so absolute that the angel would start to doubt his own existence, and the only thing that mattered was that he continue to pour out his strength so that Lucifer would remain strong.

As the mirrors brought some light back to his isolated cage, Castiel shifted in desperation, hoping Lucifer would show just a little mercy. Perhaps if there was a lull, the dark archangel wouldn't mind removing the blindfold; just for a moment, just to reassure Castiel that there still _was_ an outside world. He tried to call out, but the silver gag muffled his voice to less than a vague whimper.

 _Hold still in there_ , Lucifer's voice whispered through his mind, wafting through the prison like the scent of poisoned roses. _Shhh… you're not going anywhere._

Castiel sagged, hands hanging slack in the chains as he realized his brother had no intention of letting him see what was happening. How much longer would he have to keep this up?

The prison was lit now, a spotlight beaming down on the bound angel. He squinted against it, struggling to focus on healing. The strain left his emotional defenses severely weakened, so that when he caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror, Castiel nearly collapsed in defeat.

Lucifer hadn't even altered the image. It was just him. Himself, reflected in every surface, a hundred visible reminders of the archangel's victory. Castiel felt his stomach turn, unable to escape the sight. The physical wounds from Lucifer's furious tantrum hadn't fully disappeared yet, but at least they were fading. The Devil had not been kind after Castiel's interference with the Winchesters. In his life, the angel had never been beaten so ferociously, with so much brutal rage. When Lucifer had forced him into the yoke and chains, ending the rampage, it had been a blessing.

Even without the blood and bruises marring his form, though, Castiel saw only a pitiful example of an angel. Kneeling with back hunched, arms outspread as though in crucifixion, silenced and trembling from waning strength… this was a warrior of God? Castiel could still remember how proud he had once been, how fierce and strong. Now he was this, the reflections a cold, intentional reminder that he was weak and conquered. Expendable. Used up.

Shame forced Castiel's gaze away from the sight—it did no good, as the floor had become a mirror as well, and his downcast eyes caught only a closer view of his own defeat.

The metal cuffs clamping on his wrists suddenly flared with white-hot heat, searing his skin so that Castiel cried out into the gag at the unexpected pain. He tried to ignore the sound and stench of sizzling flesh, fighting uselessly to pull his hands free of the burning chains.

 _You're slacking again_ , Lucifer's voice informed him with dangerous ire.

If Lucifer would put half the energy he was using from torturing him into healing instead, the angel might at least have a chance to recharge. Though Lucifer had refilled him a bit, Castiel hadn't been permitted enough power to ease his own exhaustion. His breaths came heavy, and he bit back a moan as he doubled his efforts to hold the vessel together.

 _Stop whining,_ Lucifer's voice ordered, as though guessing his thoughts. _You're just a tool, Castiel. Tools that don't function are worthless, don't you think?_

The mirrors began to change, and Lucifer's voice retreated. Castiel swallowed, too drained to resist, as the bunker materialized around him once again. It was under attack, and he couldn't move to help. Demons should have never been able to get in, but Lucifer was in control and he could show Castiel whatever he wanted to.

The sound of Sam crying out in pain still made his heart leap with fear, even knowing that it wasn't real. Castiel saw the younger Winchester go down, bleeding from a dozen gashes across his chest. The angel tried to fight his way to his feet, but Lucifer's yoke was too heavy to lift. He couldn't get more than one foot under himself, before it pressed him back down. Castiel grunted as he over-balanced, tipping to one side so that he was propped up at an uncomfortable diagonal by the wooden beam, arms helplessly suspended.

"Wait!" Dean cried out, kneeling over Sam with one hand extended towards the advancing demons. "Take the angel instead."

 _It's not real_ , Castiel reminded himself, but not before his heart nearly rent in two. He struggled to raise himself back upright, eyes flicking from one cruel, demonic face to the next as they all turned towards him in ominous regard. _It's not real…_ Dean wouldn't give him up so callously.

"Take _him_ ," Dean insisted as the demons wavered. "Don't hurt Sam, and you can have Cas."

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut against the vision, trembling with pain. Of course he would take Sam's place, without hesitation. He would never allow his friend to fall into demon hands if he could help it, but that did nothing to lessen the heartbreak he felt to hear the Winchesters abandoning him. But it wasn't real.

Nevertheless, he felt the demons' hands grabbing him, dragging him away, and then he heard the sounds of Hell again and knew the vision had changed back to the Cage. The screams filled his head as Castiel fought to ignore it and keep healing Lucifer's body—no, it was _his_ body—until he was almost praying for the blackness to return.

It must have, eventually, because when the angel opened his eyes again at last in weary resignation, he was alone, unable to see or hear, unable to speak, unable to move.

What had Lucifer done with all that power he'd taken from him? What was his plan to defeat Amara? How close was he? How much longer did Castiel have to hold on, and when would the Winchesters put him out of his misery? He might have been trapped there for years by now, Castiel wouldn't know, but surely if Lucifer _had_ killed Dean and Sam, he would have made the angel watch.

If that happened, Castiel would stop fighting, would let Lucifer burn him out for good.

If only he could _see_.

As though in answer to his unspoken prayer, a light clicked on in the mind-realm prison. Castiel's eyes widened, heart fluttering in fear, as Lucifer strode inside with an impatient glower. It took everything he had not to cringe back, but the angel forced himself to hold still as Lucifer reached out and grabbed the yoke. He hoisted Castiel to his feet as though the weight was nothing, his other hand jerking the silver gag free.

"What-" Castiel started to ask, but Lucifer cut him off with an angel blade pressed against his throat so hard he almost couldn't breathe.

"You're up," Lucifer grumbled. "This is ridiculous. But I'm warning you, Castiel… you say anything I don't like, and you lose speaking privileges _permanently_. You don't need a voice to keep that healing grace going. Capiche?"

"I don't understand. What's happening?" the angel croaked, but Lucifer swiftly shifted to stand behind him, blade still in place.

Castiel reflexively fought against the chains holding his arms out wide, struggling in fear of the unknown until Lucifer grabbed the yoke and gave him a fierce shake. The mirrored wall directly before them began to shimmer and change, showing Castiel the outside world for the first time since Lucifer had siphoned his energy.

A familiar face stood before them, looking half concerned and half pissed off, peering at Castiel closely. The angel blanched, at a loss for words. Surely this was impossible. Another trick, perhaps?

"That you?" the newcomer demanded. "Hey, Cas, you in there, kiddo?"

Castiel felt Lucifer's grip on him tighten, but he was too stunned to do more than stare. He took a breath, then asked with shaky voice,

"G-Gabriel?"


	3. To Take On True Evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an awesome piece of fanart of the three angels that pajasekacka did on DA =)  
> http://pajasekacka.deviantart.com/art/You-are-not-alone-I-m-here-my-little-bro-625407349

Lucifer was still exhausted from the spell, but couldn't wait as long as he would have liked to recharge Castiel. Honestly, the stupid little angel had _one_ job to do: keep Lucifer's new vessel healed. Lucifer had felt it the moment Castiel passed out. True, he _had_ drained the angel nearly empty, but it took a lot of power to pull off the trick Lucifer had.

Nevertheless, it irked him to have to take a step back from the action to focus on healing their body, coldly thrusting a forceful wave of energy into Castiel to revive him. As soon as the angel was awake again and strong enough to take over, Lucifer jerked him back up to his knees, checked that the yoke was still binding him soundly, and left him in the dark.

That had been a week ago.

The spell required some time to take effect, of course. It wasn't easy, after all, to reassemble an archangel. If Lucifer absolutely did need some back-up, though, there was only one that he actually wanted running second string. It would be worth the wait and the energy spent.

In the meantime, at least Lucifer had Castiel to keep him entertained. The archangel smiled, sitting back in his chair in the crypt as he lazily drew Castiel a mental picture of Hell. He added an adjoining cage full of young angels just for good measure, strung up by their wrists and wings while demons tortured them for fun. Castiel bucked in distress and Lucifer almost considered taking the gag off just to hear him try to call to his siblings.

 _"Castiel!"_ they sobbed in fear, practically still fledglings. _"Help us!"_

But alas, what a shame, he couldn't reach them, could do nothing but listen to the young ones' screams.

"Not that I have any such plans for our brothers and sisters," Lucifer pointed out though Castiel wouldn't be able to hear him. He smiled. "I'll give them a choice first, like always. When I take charge of Heaven, they're more than welcome to serve me. In fact, I'd prefer it that way."

Besides, once he commanded the Host, he could eradicate the demons' blighting existence.

Lucifer added Sam and Dean Winchesters into the vision, prisoners in another cage, watching Castiel with blame in their eyes as their shouts of agony drowned out the angel's muffled cries. The archangel felt Castiel's despair, but it only gave him more satisfaction.

"It didn't have to be like this, Castiel," he growled. "I would have been kind to you as my vessel. But you deserve this. You shouldn't have sided against me or helped put me back in that Cage." Not to mention having the audacity of being resurrected after Lucifer deliberately killed him. "You're no brother of mine anymore… you're a tool, a means to an end."

Bored with his sport, Lucifer erased the entire scenario, cloaking Castiel's mind in complete blackness and silence. He felt the angel shudder with horror at the utter isolation but it wasn't like his struggles would accomplish anything except please Lucifer all the more.

Glancing over to a wide ring drawn on the floor of the crypt, the archangel heaved an impatient sigh.

"Anytime you feel like showing up," he grumbled out loud, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. "This party is waiting on you."

* * *

It was another two days before anything happened, but Lucifer was prepared. The center of the ring began to smoke and glow, beams of light shooting out in rapid motion as demons pressed back fearfully. The archangel sat upright with an elated smile. _Finally_.

"Light it," he ordered a demon who stood at the ready. "Then all of you get out."

They needed no prompting. Lucifer ignored the hastily retreating demons as he strode forward to stand before the ring, now burning with holy fire. The flames danced in his eyes, highlighting the expectant, almost predatory expression on his face. From within the circle, the light was now crackling with electric blue lightning as a shape began to appear on the ground.

The form hardened and solidified amid the smoke. Lucifer clasped his hands behind his back, waiting. Finally, the light died away, leaving an unobstructed view of an archangel lying stretched out on his back with eyes closed. Though there was a hole in his dark shirt right above where his heart would be, neither it nor the green jacket showed a drop of blood—good as new.

Lucifer's smile widened, and softened.

"Hello, Gabriel…"

The prone form didn't move, little more than a corpse on the floor. Nothing stirred but the flames, crackling in the silence, but still Lucifer waited. Then, finally, Gabriel's eyes flew open wide. The archangel gasped, a rattling inhale as life returned to the once empty vessel. The flickering light cast his disoriented expression into sharp relief when the archangel shot upright, scrambling to find his feet while his hands clutched at his chest where Lucifer had stabbed him so long ago.

Lucifer didn't say anything, just waited mildly as Gabriel looked down as though in search of the blade that had killed him. When he didn't find it, the archangel looked up at last and froze at the sight of his brother.

"Wh-" His voice was cracked and hoarse. Gabriel cleared his throat, staring at Lucifer intently and then looking around vaguely at the ring of holy fire that hemmed him in. "What the- how?"

"Welcome back, brother," Lucifer greeted him, taking a step closer to the flames. "Just breathe… give it a moment, let your strength return."

Gabriel gaped at him, then at the fire again, then the crypt they stood in. He was listing a bit to the side and seemed unable or unwilling to try moving. Lucifer waited with infinite patience as his younger brother's eyes met his again.

"Lucifer?" Gabriel croaked. "Why are you… that's Castiel's body." He looked at the flames again, light flaring in his eyes as his mind seemed to catch up with him. The archangel whirled this way and that, registering his prison.

Lucifer held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Before you panic," he cautioned, "The fire is necessary, just until you-"

"You _killed_ me, you ass!"

Ah. Yes, he had. Lucifer rolled his eyes at Gabriel's indignation, gesturing. "I also brought you back. You're welcome-"

"Why, just to kill me again?"

Lucifer frowned. He'd expected his brother wouldn't be exactly willing to give him a warm greeting, but Gabriel sounded truly pissed off. "Of course not," he retorted. "And to be fair, you were planning on killing _me_. For what it's worth, I hated to do it-"

"Yeah, boo-hoo, now let me out!" Gabriel snarled, looking around at the imprisoning flames. Lucifer saw his brother's hand twitch, like he was trying to drop his blade into his hand, though of course he had none. "Right now! I'm not playing!"

"You need to calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. The holy oil was just a precaution, until I knew you weren't going to panic. Gabriel…" Lucifer dropped his hands somewhat, raising his eyebrows. "It really is good to see you again."

"Bite me," the younger archangel growled, meeting Lucifer's eyes again. Anger flashed amid confusion in the golden gaze, and he paused before asking, "Why are you in Castiel's vessel? Where's Cas? Did you kill Michael, then? Shouldn't you be riding Sam?"

Lucifer tapped the side of his head. "Castiel is in here with me," he said. "And… no. For your information, there was never a battle." And how that rankled, to have been defeated by two puny humans, of all things. The archangel's expression darkened, but he schooled his temper, mindful of how much he needed to win Gabriel over. "There's a lot you've missed-"

"Being _dead_ , you mean?"

"The Darkness is back."

This seemed to give Gabriel pause, as he leveled his glare at Lucifer silently for a moment before demanding, "How long was I gone?"

"Few years," Lucifer replied impatiently. He'd hoped his revelation would be enough to inspire Gabriel's cooperation, but he supposed he would have to be tolerant for the time being. After all, returning from the dead was sure to be disorienting, and Gabriel did have a lot to catch up on. Knowing his brother wasn't likely to calm down until he got more details, the archangel grudgingly added, "The Winchesters and Castiel… interfered with the fight. Michael and I both ended up in the Cage. I got out, he didn't, which means you and I are the only ones who can stop the Darkness this time. You do remember the Darkness, don't you, Gabriel?"

The younger archangel's eyes narrowed, hands clenching at his sides. He stepped right up to the flames, deadly in the darkened crypt, and ground out, "Let me out of here. _Now_. I'm not listening to a word you say if you don't put out the fire."

Lucifer huffed, biting his tongue with some effort. "Fine. See, I really have no intention of harming you." He flicked his hand at the encircling holy oil, extinguishing them with a low hiss.

Gabriel quirked a cool smile and nodded. "Thanks."

Then, with a flurry of wings, the younger archangel fled.

Lucifer rolled his eyes, folding his arms and drumming his fingertips as he waited. It took barely a second before he felt the tug. Gabriel rematerialized with a crash, sprawled on his stomach on the stone floor with a groan.

"Ow… that didn't work…"

"By the way," Lucifer drawled. "I should mention that you'll have to stick close to me."

Gabriel twisted onto his side, gazing down at his left leg which stretched towards his brother. A barely visible chain glittered in the semi-darkness, running from Gabriel's ankle to Lucifer's, binding them together. It was thin, almost nonexistent, but unbreakable from Lucifer's power. The younger archangel's face turned red with rage as he rolled over to sit up, fruitlessly trying to jerk his leg free.

"Did you- Let me go!"

"Can't do that," Lucifer replied with a shrug. He strolled forward to stand over his brother, still smiling disarmingly but with full awareness of his domineering stance. He _didn't_ wish Gabriel any harm… but it would do his brother good to recognize that Lucifer was the one in charge. "Don't bother trying to create a projection of yourself, either. That chain binds you to your body. Sorry about that, but after our last… regrettable encounter… I knew you might be resistant to helping me."

"You _think_?" Gabriel demanded, trying to scramble back from his brother. Lucifer didn't follow; sometimes, to catch a fish, it had to be allowed to pull the line. He held still as Gabriel's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And you still haven't told me why you're running around in Castiel's body. What, we're allowed to possess without permission now?"

Lucifer shrugged. "I got permission."

This time, Gabriel flinched, his indignation shifting into wariness. Slowly, the archangel climbed to his feet, keeping as much distance between them as Lucifer was currently allowing. "Uh-huh." His jaw tightened. "And how long did you torture him to get it?"

"Oh for-" Lucifer's calm slipped somewhat, exasperation making him shake his head. "I didn't. I didn't have to."

"Then what did you threaten him with?"

"It may surprise you to hear," Lucifer drawled, "it wasn't even my idea. He volunteered, because of what's at stake." He paused, then added, "That should give you some indication of how dire things are."

Gabriel didn't look appeased, eyes flashing. "Right. The Winchesters were totally okay with that, I'm sure. Where are those knuckleheads, anyway? Get _them_ to help, since I'm sure this is somehow their fault."

"I need an archangel. That means you. Gabriel," Lucifer tried again, softening his voice to a warm caress. "Brother, I chose _you_. Michael is useless, you and Raphael were dead. Why do you think you were the one I brought back, instead of him?"

"Because of my rapier wit and devilish charm?"

Lucifer's mouth twitched. "I know you find this hard to believe, but I did mourn what happened between us. You were always my favorite. Don't you remember how close we used to be? Brother, I need you to trust me, just a little."

Gabriel snorted, shaking his foot. The chain rattled with a celestial tinkle. "Trust you?" he snapped. "On a leash, I'm supposed to trust you?"

"Technically it's just a chain, not a leash," Lucifer couldn't help but retort, tilting his head with a smirk. "But I suppose I could swap it out, if that's your kink."

"You're a funny guy."

Gabriel didn't sound amused, but he didn't sound afraid, either. He eyed Lucifer for another moment, then crossed his arms and snapped, "Castiel? You alright in there?"

"Don't bother, he can't hear you."

Lucifer could see the shift once again, as Gabriel went from annoyed to suspicious, and then to grim. "Why not?" he demanded. "What did you do?"

"I didn't need him distracted," the older archangel replied simply, though irritation began to creep back into mind. Why did Gabriel so insistently focus on the things of least regard? Castiel was not the problem. The Darkness, and her growing power, was the problem. "He's busy."

Gabriel snorted. "Right. That body can't hold you both, can it. So you're using him to keep it running, while you have all the control out here. Smart. Let me talk to him."

"Why?"

"So we can swap cake recipes," Gabriel growled sarcastically, eyes flashing. "Why do you _think_? Call me crazy, Lucifer, but I _don't_ trust you, and I wanna hear it from Cas what's going on. You wouldn't have gone through the trouble of bringing me back unless you _really_ need me, so I'm not talking to you until I get to talk to him."

Lucifer took another step forward now, crackling with frustration. "We don't have time. The Darkness-"

"Row row row your boat, gently down to Hell…. Throw the Devil overboard, listen to him yell!"

The archangel heaved a sigh as Gabriel stuck his fingers in his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, singing at the top of his lungs to drown out Lucifer's voice. "I thought you had outgrown this," Lucifer snapped, though if Gabriel could even hear him, he didn't stop. "Gabriel. Gabriel!"

"On top of spaghetti…. All covered with cheese….. I lost my poor meatball…. When somebody sneezed!"

"You're impossible. These puerile games won't work this time, Gabriel, stop being childish."

"It rolled off the table… it rolled on the floor…."

"Gabriel!"

"And then my poor meatball…. Rolled out of the door. I got a _lot_ of verses to get through, Luci!"

" _Alright_! You want to talk to Castiel, fine, if it'll make you listen and take this seriously!"

The singing stopped, as Lucifer shifted inward, storming through the prison he'd created. Castiel was looking shaky, eyes wide as the oppressive weight on his back held him down, hands hanging loosely in their chains. The archangel grabbed the yoke and jerked him upright, yanking the gag out of his captive's mouth.

"You're up," he snapped. He drew his blade and pressed it ferociously to Castiel's throat. "This is ridiculous." Why Gabriel should even _care_ about the angel that Lucifer was riding around in was a mystery. He needed his brother's cooperation, though, and in spite of having bound Gabriel, Lucifer was hesitant to openly threaten him.

The lesser angel, on the other hand…

"But I'm warning you, Castiel," Lucifer went on, digging the blade in even harder, gratified by the stench of the angel's fear. "You say anything I don't like, and you lose speaking privileges _permanently_. You don't need a voice to keep that healing grace going. Capiche?"

Keeping a firm hold on Castiel, making sure the chains were tight to keep him from actually moving their vessel once given control, Lucifer allowed the curtain to rise.


	4. For Those He Loved

Sam leaned back in his chair, running his hands down his face. He groaned quietly as the monotonous ticking of the mantel clock seemed to taunt him with the reminder that every second he didn't find a solution was another second that Cas was alone in Lucifer's clutches. Yes, he knew Lucifer direly needed to keep Cas alive. But Sam knew the Devil. Their angel friend might very well wish he were dead.

Dropping his hands, Sam twisted to cast a bleary eye at the time, then exhaled a long, slow breath as he realized it was already almost four in the morning. The words on the page still open on the table were swimming in and out of focus. Maybe some coffee.

Yeah… coffee. Sam decided he could spare ten minutes to grab a snack, but then he needed to get back to it.

The young hunter pushed himself to his feet, slowly easing out the kinks and aches from having sat still for too long. At some point, he vaguely thought, he would have to sleep. There was no sense running himself into the ground, or he'd be no use to Cas.

Of course it was one thing to say that. When it came down to it, though, Sam just couldn't bring himself to stop, not even for some sleep. Not when he thought about what the warrior angel might be going through.

Not when he still saw the pain in Cas's face when his friend had saved him from Lucifer's vengeance. _It's taking all my strength to keep him from killing you_. But if the angel had been strong enough to take control once, Sam knew with absolute certainty that Lucifer would ensure he couldn't do it again. The hunter shuddered. And then he had _banished_ Cas. Yes, the point had been to banish Lucifer, but even as he'd done it, Sam knew that Cas would be the one to bear Lucifer's rage, punishment for having been bested by the brothers.

He'd had no choice, though.

But now, Sam needed to bring Cas back home, which meant there would be later nights than this until he found a solution.

The hunter wandered towards the kitchen, taking the long route through the dormitory wing so that he could shuffle into Dean's doorway first. He pushed the door open as silently as possible and looked in on his brother. No need to have worried; Dean was dead to the world, several empty bottles scattered around the bed. One arm was reaching towards the nightstand where his phone rested in silent hope of news in the middle of the night, and his boots were still on.

Sam smiled sadly, then trudged forward. Dean never slept in his boots when they were safe in the bunker. Though it bothered the younger Winchester that his brother was acting so defeated, at least Dean seemed to be subconsciously in fighting mode. Sam just wished he didn't have to be.

Pulling up the blanket, Sam draped it over the sleeping hunter without trying to remove Dean's shoes. Better to just let him sleep and take in whatever solace he could find from unconsciousness. Sam's weary body longed for that as well, but… well, he still had a job to do.

 _Cas,_ he silently prayed. _I don't know if you can hear me. But we haven't given up, alright? I- I know it's taking a while to find you, but we're still looking for a way to get Lucifer out of you. And for another way to kill Amara. I know you let him in, but… but there's gotta be another way, and I'll find it. I WILL. Cas, just please hold on, alright? I hope Lucifer's leaving you alone, but if he's not…_

Sam's prayer trailed off as a chill rippled through his heart, remnants of an old nightmare that had never dissipated. If Lucifer _wasn't_ leaving Cas alone, then it was largely Sam's fault, and how could he bear the pain of passing his own nightmare on to someone else? Especially when it was Cas, a second brother to the Winchesters?

 _I'm so sorry, Cas,_ he finished with a sigh, backing out of Dean's room and resuming his journey to the kitchen. _But I can fix this. I just haven't found the right book yet. I'm still looking, and… and I'll be there as soon as I can._

Helplessly, Sam cut off the prayer, still not knowing if the angel could even hear them, and frustrated with how little comfort or good news he could offer anyway. Finding his way to the coffeepot on the kitchen counter, Sam threw some grounds into the basket and pushed the button. The clock on the stove said that he'd already been away for almost twelve minutes. He needed to get moving.

When the coffee was finally done, Sam poured a mug and left it black, then trudged back towards the library. An answer was here. He just needed to find it. Before Lucifer could break Cas for good. Before Dean gave up all hope. Before Sam himself ran out of strength to hold himself and his brother together.

At least the page was a little clearer, the ink staying in one place as the caffeine began to take effect. Sam took a long sip, then set the mug down and closed his eyes for one more moment.

 _Look…_ he prayed again, but not to Cas. _I know you don't really want to get involved. Or at least, you haven't bothered to show up yet. And I know I'm the last person who deserves a prayer answered. But… God… Cas has done nothing but try to help, from the very start. He's given EVERYTHING. And he's your son. So… please. I'm begging you… just don't let him die._

* * *

Gabriel eyed the angel before him, satisfied that the true face he was looking at actually was his younger brother, not his older one. The eyes staring back at him held such exhaustion that the archangel felt weary just watching him. Not that he was surprised. Of course Lucifer would be riding Castiel mercilessly.

"You alright?" he demanded, appraising the angel. Besides the exhaustion, there was also the odd way Castiel stood slack, completely still from the shoulders down. Gabriel shrugged that off, though, more concerned with getting some answers.

"I'm…" Cas seemed to hesitate, a flicker of nerves giving him away. "…Fine."

Boy, Gabriel was going to have to give him some lessons on selling a convincing lie. The archangel crossed his arms, waiting, but Castiel only wrinkled his brow and murmured,

"So that's what he was doing. Resurrecting you. It makes sense."

Abruptly, the angel's face shifted, voice growling out, "Tell him how I got permission."

"Hey!" Gabriel snapped. "No prompting from the studio audience!" Although, he did want an answer on that. And with how lousy Cas was at lying, Gabriel would be able to tell if Lucifer _had_ tortured or tricked the kid into letting him in.

Castiel—or Lucifer, rather—let out an annoyed huff, and then his face shifted again. Cas exhaled sharply, falling still, and he looked down.

"I volunteered," he said, voice low with some emotion Gabriel couldn't place. "It was the only way."

"The only way to what?" Gabriel demanded. His glare deepened. "What's he got over you?"

Castiel gave his head a minute shake. "Nothing. It wasn't like that. But… the Winchesters… they were about to send him back to the Cage. Dean would have never sacrificed Sam as Lucifer's vessel again, but I knew we _needed_ an archangel to have any hope of defeating Amara. I… I offered. It was my idea. There, you see, brother? He gave himself to me of his own free will. Are you satisfied?"

The abrupt shift in his voice made Gabriel blink, and then scowl again as he realized Lucifer had re-surfaced. As a matter of fact, he wasn't satisfied at all.

"No!" he snapped. "Put Cas back on! I'm not done yet."

"This is infantile, Gabriel."

"Uh, you want my cooperation or not? 'Cause I'm just as happy to sit my ass down and be your literal ball and chain."

Lucifer rolled his eyes, pursed his lips, but then receded into the background again. Castiel jolted slightly as he reappeared; Gabriel could imagine that Luci had given him a shove. It was starting to piss him off him how unnecessarily rough his older brother was being with Cas, given that without the lesser angel, Lucifer wouldn't be there at all. Would some appreciation really be that hard to muster?

Gabriel ran a hand down his face, sighing. "Why, kiddo?"

Castiel didn't meet his eyes. "We needed an archangel," he repeated. "Lucifer was our only chance."

"Okay, but why _you_? I get it, Dean wasn't gonna let Samsquatch play the angel-condom card, but you could've found another way to spring him. What's with the sacrifice play?"

"I made the most sense as a vessel," Cas replied. He still wasn't looking at Gabriel. "I wanted to be of some service. I'm used up, Gabriel. This was all I would be good for."

The archangel's eyes narrowed, studying his little brother with masked alarm at such defeatist talk. Not that Castiel had ever been known for his overwhelming optimism, but these were the words of an angel who had already given up… and that was something Gabriel had thought Cas would _never_ do. What the hell had he missed since the Apocalypse to have turned his staunch, fierce warrior of a brother into this hollow, exhausted quitter?

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, crossing his arms. "That's bull. What happened to you, anyway? Has Luci been telling you this shit?" He wouldn't put it past the older archangel, whose silver tongue could work more damage than every blade of the Host combined.

Cas hesitated. "I've… known this for a while."

It didn't feel like a lie told under duress. None of this was making sense, and Gabriel huffed in exasperation. He was never going to get to the bottom of things like this.

"Okay, you know what?" he growled. "You're just gonna have to catch me up. Just… show me everything since Lucifer was kind enough to kill me, and I'll sort it out myself. Alright, bro?"

The younger angel nodded, but when Gabriel leaned in a bit so Cas could touch his forehead to deposit the memories, his brother didn't move. The archangel waited a second, then raised an eyebrow. Castiel cleared his throat with discomfort, arms limp at his sides.

"I, um… I- I can't-" He broke off, a pleading expression on his face.

Gabriel took in his brother's slack posture, then rolled his eyes. "He's got you tied up pretty good, huh?" he muttered. "Forget it, I'll do it."

Reaching out, he set a hand on Cas's head, pulling out the information his brother was passing on. Everything he'd seen, everything he'd heard, all that had transpired between the Elysian Fields and the moment Gabriel had been brought back.

Had he not been a celestial being of quasi-limitless power, Gabriel's mind would have exploded under the sudden influx of information, far more than a mere human could have safely processed in the span of a few seconds. The transference was immediate, leaving Gabriel to jerk away as he sifted simultaneously through a million memories… each one more horrible than the others. What the _hell_?

Why had Cas been fighting a war against Raphael _alone_ , after everything he'd done for Sam and Dean? Why had they trapped him in a ring of holy fire and _left_ him there? Why had he been kicked out of their super-secret lair, and… and… too many damn things for him to even single them all out, all culminating with a scarred Castiel looking the Devil in the eye and whispering one little word.

All because no one had bothered to make sure the angel knew how fiercely he mattered.

"Gabriel?" Castiel asked with a note of anxiety as the archangel spun away. "Gabriel, I'm-" Then, again, his voice shifted mid-sentence, Castiel cut off with a muffled protest. Lucifer finished for him. "-glad we got that out of the way. Now do you understand the urgency here?"

The younger archangel didn't respond, breathing heavily as his fists clenched and unclenched. He wasn't sure what exactly he'd been expecting, but what he'd just seen sure as hellfire hadn't been it.

"Gonna kill 'em myself," he growled under his breath, angrily kicking his foot forward in a useless attempt to break the chain keeping him there. Those _damn_ Winchesters! Maybe there hadn't been time to part on better terms with them, but he'd sacrificed himself to give them the chance to make everything right, and now Gabriel was wishing he'd just smote them instead. Not that _he'd_ been that nice to Cas, himself. But it was one thing for _him_ to screw around with the kid, and a very different thing for someone else to do so.

"You're trying my patience, little brother."

The furious archangel whirled back around, snapping, "Did I say you could come back out? I'm not done with Cas yet, so put him back on!"

There was a dangerous narrowing of the blue eyes, a clenching jaw that looked so odd on Castiel's normally stoic face. Gabriel knew he was ticking his brother off—not the safest of pursuits—but he was pretty damn ticked off himself, and even if he wasn't the almighty Lucifer, he still wasn't to be underestimated.

When Lucifer seemed reluctant to grant the perfectly reasonable request, Gabriel glowered and switched to Angel Radio instead.

 _"Cas!"_ he snapped, tapping in to the connection among angels. _"Why are you still hanging around those jackasses?"_

There was no response, but Lucifer did cross his arms and shift his weight in a show of immense impatience. "He can't come to the phone right now. He's already screwed things up for me once, do you really think I'm going to leave him a way to communicate with anyone outside?"

"Oh, come on!" Gabriel protested. "You've got what you want, you got a happy-clappy vessel to prance around in, why you gotta screen his calls?"

"You know, I brought you back because I need someone I can count on," Lucifer retorted, still looking dangerously close to attacking. "Not because I need someone to explain myself to. You got what _you_ wanted, too. I let you talk to Castiel, so now you're all caught up, and if you actually care about any of us… you'll focus on the Darkness."

Gabriel still didn't feel finished, not by a long shot. He opened his mouth in preparation to give a smartass reply, out of centuries of habit, but forced himself to close it again. Antagonizing his brother, as much fun as it could be, wouldn't do Castiel any favors, and Gabriel was still too pissed off about what he'd just seen to risk bringing any malice down on his younger sibling.

"Fine," he growled out from behind gritted teeth. "What's your plan?"

"I'm still working on that," Lucifer began, but Gabriel wasn't really listening.

He would let Lucifer figure out the whole Darkness issue—and leave it to the Winchesters to bring his cranky old aunt back into play, after how hard it had been to get rid of her the first go-around. Meanwhile, his own time would be better spent working on the _other_ sticky wicket they had here.

Namely, what exactly was the plan for _after_ Auntie Amara was gone? It wasn't like Lucifer would just give up a perfectly good vessel, who wouldn't be able to eject him. He had to know that Gabriel wasn't likely to stand by and go along with Lucifer taking over, though. Of course Gabriel was worried for Cas, but there was his own sweet ass to consider, too.

After all, his last attempt to fight Luci hadn't exactly gone according to plan.

If only he could talk to Castiel alone. It bothered Gabriel how much his little brother had changed. It bothered him how tightly Lucifer was gripping the younger angel in his claws, not letting him hear or see or, hell, even _move_. He would have to find some way of communicating with Cas, which would probably require something crafty and clever.

Fortunately, he was the craftiest and cleverest of them all.

Gabriel let Lucifer keep droning on, but his own eyes narrowed in thought. The chain around his ankle was an infuriating hindrance, but not an insurmountable one. But he was going to need some allies, and incensed though he was, there were only two knuckleheads in the world who were even remotely up to the task…


	5. This is a Story of Brothers

"So, where'd you find that one?"

"In my crypt, where it was left, Gabriel."

"What about that one, what's that one do?"

"What do you mean, _what does it do_? It's a spear. It does what every spear does."

"How about that one?"

Gabriel grinned as Lucifer slowly turned to face him with the same expression of aggravation that the youngest archangel had delighted in provoking for centuries. Usually, of course, it was the more dour Michael that his intentions were directed at, but he was having quite a bit of fun at the moment. Lucifer, unsurprisingly, seemed less than amused.

"Five minutes," the Devil snapped. "Can you not, for five minutes?"

"Oh, un-wad your panties, Luci."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed, before he turned his back on Gabriel again to sort through the pile of weapons in the throne room. The demons had been bringing them back in steady amounts to form a growing depot. None of it, though, looked capable of taking Amara out. Gabriel wondered if Lucifer was realizing this yet, or if he still thought they could handle this on their own.

Catching sight of a brass piece, the younger archangel frowned. "Hey, isn't this one mine?" Gabriel flew forward and grabbed it out of the pile. It wasn't a weapon at all, but a long, thin bugle. His horn! He'd thought it was lost a long time ago. Gabriel's eyes lit up as he put the instrument to his mouth and let loose a horrendous blast of warbled, dissonant sound.

"Gabriel!" Lucifer shouted, spinning and jerking the horn down.

"What? It's mine. What are you doing with this old thing? Dad gave it to _me_."

Not that he had any musical inclination whatsoever, or had ever bothered to figure out the point or process for the thing. Putting it back to his lips, Gabriel started tooting out what might have passed for a melody, if the listener happened to be a particularly deaf boulder. The noise echoed jarringly against the stony chamber, amplified by the wide open acoustical space. Gabriel closed his eyes in delight at the ruckus, before the horn was yanked out of his hands.

Eyes shooting open in indignation, Gabriel didn't even have a chance to protest before Lucifer slammed the instrument down over his knee, bending it in an arch.

"And _that_ ," Lucifer retorted, "is why Michael and Raphael gave it to me to hide."

Still glaring, the Devil coolly handed the wrecked horn back with a gleam of triumph that Gabriel fully accepted as a challenge. Waiting until Lucifer turned back to focus on his task, the younger archangel impishly raised the trumpet one more time to blow an even more rambunctious, albeit distorted, caterwaul. Something between a dying hellhound and a Leviathan's mating call.

This time when Lucifer snatched the instrument away, he threw it on the ground as the surrounding demons breathed an obvious sigh of relief. It only took five or six stomps, each one more ferocious than the last, to render the brass horn utterly flattened and unplayable. Gabriel stared down at his poor trumpet.

"Rude."

"You understand that the Darkness wants to destroy everything, don't you, Gabriel? If you can't take this seriously, then just… just leave me alone long enough to look through this junk."

With an affable shrug, Gabriel raised his hands and turned as if to go. "No problem, bro," he replied easily, before spinning back around and kicking his foot several times to rattle the light chain. "Oh, wait, I'm stuck here with you. Maybe binding yourself to your little brother wasn't the smartest decision you ever made, huh?"

"Alright, that's it."

Lucifer snapped his fingers; the depot of weapons disappeared. Simultaneously, a soft clink of chains almost convinced Gabriel that he'd won and his brother was going to release him after all. Instead, he saw a thin, golden light flash from Lucifer to the throne sitting on the dais. Gabriel realized too late what it meant, and gave his foot a powerful, useless tug.

"Luci!" he complained, bound now to the throne instead of the older archangel. "You're no fun at all, you know that?"

"Stay. Here."

From the gritted teeth and look of exasperation on Lucifer's face, Gabriel figured he was serving his role as obnoxious little brother rather skillfully. Still, he would have liked to get off one last smart remark before the Devil flew off to a more peaceful room. Contenting himself with blowing a raspberry after him instead, Gabriel then turned to the throne and collapsed onto it. He kicked one leg over the arm, lounging at ease, while his bound foot kicked just enough to keep up a steady rattle… just to irritate the demons still lining the room, exchanging looks like "what the hell do we do with a petulant archangel?"

Despite the slightly ridiculous exterior he was putting on, Gabriel felt a flash of grim triumph. Lucifer's chain kept the archangel from sending copies of himself anywhere, but he could still appear in dreams—provided he was left alone long enough to concentrate on the task without attracting attention.

Now he had what he needed.

Walking into someone else's dream was convenient in that he didn't have to know where the person—or persons—were. Gabriel cast his mind out, still keeping up the monotonous rattle of his chain so that the demons wouldn't suspect he was up to anything, while simultaneously pulling himself into the dream world of Dean Winchester.

In his dream, Dean was sitting in some old diner that Gabriel didn't recognize nor particularly care about, an entire pie sitting on the table in front of him. Dean was inhaling deeply, an expression of nearly fanatic delight on his face, raising a fork, ready to plunge in…

Gabriel grabbed the human by his shoulder before he could take a bite. The scene shifted, the archangel dragging Dean along to a neutral site instead, safe from any nosy intruders. Dean spluttered and shouted in surprise, trying to jerk himself free, but Gabriel merely deposited him in the middle of a wide open field. Tracking Sam down was the work of seconds—thank goodness they were both asleep. The younger, ginormous Winchester didn't even know what hit him before he was suddenly standing next to Dean.

"So, Win'sters," Gabriel greeted them, arms crossed and smug expression on his face. "Long time no see and all that."

Sam stumbled back slightly, whipping this way and that in an attempt to orient himself, while Dean's face darkened. The older hunter's hand dropped to his side, as though to draw his gun, which he didn't have here in Dreamland.

"What is this?" Dean demanded, now balling his fists instead. "What's going on?"

"It's called dreaming," Gabriel replied with a saucy wink. "And yes, it's really me. No no, please, let's not embarrass each other with an emotional display of how much you missed me."

Sam stared at him now, jaw working in clear disbelief. "Gabriel? Dreaming as in, _dreaming_ dreaming, or talking to an angel dreaming? Which is impossible, 'cause no offense, Gabriel, but you're… dead."

"Oh, thanks. I hadn't noticed that happening. No thanks to _you_ , by the way," Gabriel retorted. "It's really me. Long story short, Lucifer's figured out he can't beat the Darkness all on his lonesome, so he brought me back, so here I am. I don't have time to explain in small enough words for you to understand," he added as Dean opened his mouth to question. "In fact, I gotta keep this as short as possible, because if my dear brother figures out what I'm doing, he ain't gonna be too happy. So which one of you assclowns wants to explain to me what he's doing riding around in Castiel?"

Both the knuckleheads sobered instantly, trading a look. Dean turned back to Gabriel, then stepped forward and gave the archangel a hard poke.

"It's really you?"

"You saw Lucifer?" Sam asked at the same time, hushed and grim. Gabriel swatted Dean aside and glared.

" _Yes_ , it's me. What, you want a photo ID or something? And yes, of course I saw him. You're not answering the question: Why the _hell_ did you two let this happen? Where were you?"

"Right there, and we still didn't even know he'd done it until weeks after!" Dean snapped. "Trust me, if I'd heard what was going on, I would have _never_ let him-"

"No. I mean, where _were_ you?" The sky overhead in the dream field started turning grey as Gabriel's anger seeped into the landscape. The two hunters looked up quickly, noticing the change, but Gabriel only tightened his jaw and his fists. "I had a chat with my little brother. Got a full run-down. You realize he let Lucifer in because he thought he was worthless otherwise, right? So I wanna know, where the hell were you? Why exactly does he feel like that, huh?"

At least they had the decency to look guilty, even horrified, but Gabriel had no interest in taking it easy on them. Not after seeing the weariness in Cas's eyes, or feeling the hopelessness in his memories. When that other angel dweeb had told Castiel that they were both expendable, he should have _known_ better, but he'd agreed, and Gabriel held these two at least partly responsible for that.

"Gabriel-" Sam started, but the archangel was on a roll.

"He fell because of _you_ two. He gave up everything for _you_ , and that's how you repay him? Dean, you kick him out of the bunker right when he's just become human, when he's got literally _nothing_ in the world? And Sam, you just hang him out to dry when his stolen grace his actively killing him? A big old bunker with plenty of room, but you never even think to invite him back, when I _know_ you could tell he was sick? And don't you dare pretend you didn't know. You knew. You just didn't want him slowing you down. Both of you, you just _dumped_ him, and now he's the Devil's chew toy."

Gabriel laughed sharply, shaking his head as the sky grew even darker. "Boy, if only this wasn't a dream and I could actually knock your lights out. I hope you're both real happy."

"Y'know, you weren't exactly Big Brother of the Year, yourself!" Dean snarled in reply, though Gabriel could see the pain beneath his frosty glare. "You wanna talk about dumping him, how about you leaving Heaven? Or when you knew he was trying to stop Lucifer with me and Sam, but you just kept pushing us into that destiny crap anyway?"

"Hey! I _died_ for you morons!"

"Gabriel, listen," Sam cut in, sorrowful puppy dog eyes fixed on Gabriel all pleading. "We know. We screwed up, big time. And not just the things you said, we've always just sort of… taken him for granted."

"Damn right you have." But at least the Winchester's soul rang with sincerity and earnest regret. Not that Gabriel wasn't still angry, but he'd half been expecting their denials and arguments.

"We're gonna do better," Sam assured him, while Dean clenched his jaw and looked away. "As soon as we get him back. We've been praying, trying to let him know how sorry we are and that we're doing everything we can to figure out how to get Lucifer out."

Gabriel shrugged. "Don't bother, he can't hear you. Lucifer's got him locked down. He, uh… he didn't like it when Cassie stopped him from killing you."

No one said anything for a moment. The genuine worry in their expressions said that they understood the implication, had probably been expecting it. Still seemed like a case of "too little, too late", in the archangel's opinion.

Dean cleared his throat and took a breath. "How bad?"

Gabriel sighed. "It's not good, fellas. He can't see or hear what's going on. Looks like Lucifer's got him trussed up in his mind without any lights on. From what I gather, Luci's using him as some kinda back-up generator."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked with a frown.

"What, you think it's easy to hold an angel _and_ an archangel? Remember Lucifer's first vessel, Nick What's-his-name, chugging all that demon blood just to keep his body in one piece? Cas isn't _supposed_ to be an archangel vessel. Lucifer drained all his power and he's filtering just enough back to make Castiel heal their body non-stop. Keeps him too weak to fight back. So, how bad is it? Cas is exhausted and totally isolated, on top of _already_ feeling worthless. And I know Lucifer's been screwing around with him whenever he gets bored." Casting a pointed look at Sam, Gabriel finished, "Pretty sure I don't have to tell _you_ what that's like. You know his mind games."

The younger Winchester swallowed and looked away with even more pain in those puppy eyes. Beside him, Dean looked between Sam and Gabriel, a bit green around the gills, before giving himself a shake and demanding,

"Okay, so Cas is in trouble. We figured that much. But if you're back, can't you just shazam him out of there?"

Gabriel snorted. "Just like that? Uh… no. I'll do what I can for him, but first things first. _Someone_ unlocked the Darkness, so _someone_ had best be pulling their weight taking care of this. You boys had better get ready. It's gonna take all of us working together to bring her down."

"Sure," Dean said with a shrug and a cold glare. "I'll work with Lucifer. As soon as he gives Cas back. In one piece."

Huffing in impatience, Gabriel snapped, "Lucifer's not gonna give him up. Not when he's got a free power source, _and_ a hostage to keep _you_ in line, too. Look, I've been here too long as it is, I need to get back."

"Get back?" Sam echoed, a shrewd look directed at the archangel. "Wait… are you with Lucifer right now? I mean, wherever your actual body is?"

Gabriel coughed. "There's a teeny-tiny, itty-bitty chance that Lucifer bound me to him when he brought me back. I dunno, it's like he doesn't trust me for some reason." The archangel rolled his eyes, then froze, head cocked as he listened intently, way back into the distance where a chain was keeping up a steady rattle. The demons were shifting restlessly. Lucifer was coming.

"Gabriel, wait!" Dean said, tone urgent as he apparently saw that Gabriel was about to take off. "If you talk to Cas again…" The hunter trailed off, but Gabriel understood.

"I'll tell him you said hi."

No time for lengthy goodbyes. Gabriel snapped back to himself just in time, glare already fixed on the door as Lucifer stepped into the throne room. The Devil's eyes were shining with dark glee, which looked horrible on Castiel's face.

"She's been spotted," he informed Gabriel without preamble. "Making a scene, calling out to God as some kind of challenge. Let's go."

Gabriel shot off the throne, eyes widening in dismay. "Go? Uh… go _where_ , exactly?"

His brother was too elated to even give him a scathing look, merely hurried over with hand outstretched. The mostly invisible gold chain sailed back to Lucifer, locking him and Gabriel together once more.

"This is our opportunity," he exclaimed. "We can end this right here and now."

" _Now_? Are you nuts? With just us?" Damn it, Gabriel had just been brought back to life, he wasn't exactly keen on dying again so soon. "We're not ready, Lucifer! Let's just take a step back here and think about this-"

"Stop worrying so much. We've defeated her before."

Damn Lucifer and his pride, his _blinding_ pride. Gabriel shook his head, trying to step back, though of course he couldn't go far. "Yeah, with all four of us, plus Dad. And in case you've forgotten, we didn't exactly get off without a scratch."

But Lucifer was clearly not to be deterred. Tossing Gabriel the spear he'd been looking at earlier, the Devil raised his own long sword.

"We have the element of surprise," he pointed out. "And I have it on good authority that she's been weakened. We need to go now, hit her with our combined power. Gabriel, have you forgotten all the battles we've fought together? How we drove back the Leviathan when they tried to breach the gate of Heaven? You know, you might act like an oaf, but you've never fooled me. You're the second- well, maybe the third most dangerous warrior who ever lived."

Gabriel glared at the demotion, but more concerning was the fact that Lucifer wasn't listening to reason. He _really_ thought that highly of himself, was that confident in his own power and whatever he'd stolen from Cas, that he'd jump right into a battle that was going to get them all killed?

But then, Lucifer's cunning had only ever been outmatched by his arrogance.

"This is a bad idea," the younger archangel groused. "I want to go on record with that."

"Noted. Come on, little brother. Time to end this."

Lucifer was gone in a swish of wings, which left Gabriel no choice but to fly after him or be dragged along. Even though he knew Castiel couldn't hear him, he couldn't help but silently murmur,

_"_ _Hang in there, Castiel. Things are about to get ugly."_


	6. One Desired Victory in Battle

Dean shot up in bed, eyes wide and chest heaving like he'd just woken from a nightmare. He wasn't convinced that he hadn't. No way that had been real. Because if Gabriel had _actually_ just dropped in on them, then everything he'd said about Cas and the trouble he was in was also likely to be true.

Maybe it'd been nothing but an alcohol induced dream.

But the hunter could already hear the footsteps pounding down the hall and his heart sank. When his bedroom door crashed open a second later, Dean didn't even jump. Flicking on the light, he stared at his distraught brother with equal distress.

Seeing him awake, Sam paused, then swallowed. "So…" the younger Winchester said. "Definitely real?"

"Looks like," Dean grumbled. "Guess we should be glad Lucifer didn't pick Raphael. At least _Gabriel_ seems to give a damn about Cas." Which was not the vibe he'd gotten from the archangel in their earlier encounters, but hell, he'd take it.

Sam nodded and hesitantly pulled the desk chair closer to the bed to sink into. "Yeah, he does," he murmured. Heaving a sigh, the hunter rubbed his face. "I really wanted to believe that maybe… maybe Lucifer would just leave Cas alone. Like just ignore him completely. You know?"

Just thinking about it made Dean feel sick, even without having the details. "Me too, but we always figured after he saved you that…" Dean trailed off, not wanting to revisit the horrors that his imagination could concoct. It was safe to assume that if Cas had been able to interfere before, Lucifer probably _had_ been ignoring him to begin with. At the very least, the angel must have been awake and watching. Now?

In the chair, Sam buried his face in his hands for a second before raking his fingers through his hair. "It's because he stopped Lucifer from killing me. If he hadn't-"

"Hey!" Dean cut him off sharply, frowning. "Don't do that. This is _Lucifer_ we're talking about. He would've found any reason to screw with Cas, you know that. It's not your fault, Sam."

"God, he doesn't even know we've been praying to him, Dean. I mean, for all he knows, we already gave up on him. And you can bet Lucifer's telling him exactly that."

"Come on, man," Dean argued. He pushed the blanket back so he could jump to his feet and start pacing nervously. "Cas is smarter than that. He knows we would never just quit on him."

"Does he? Does he really, Dean? I mean, you heard Gabriel, right? He only let Lucifer in because he felt useless, because of _us_. We can keep saying we'll do better all day long, but that doesn't help Cas right now. Even _Gabriel_ knows we've done a crappy job."

"Yeah, and this is the guy who gave you herpes," Dean growled, before pausing and frowning. "Which sounds so much worse to say out loud."

Sam glared at him, then quickly cleared his throat and moved on. "Anyway, we can't just sit here anymore. Lucifer is _torturing_ Cas. We need to do something."

"Oh, really?" Dean snapped, frayed nerves exploding at the word 'torture'. The warrior angel could take a beating, but god, he hated to imagine it. "Thanks, Sam. I haven't been losing my mind over that for weeks or anything! You got a plan, genius? 'Cause if so, I'm all ears!"

The younger hunter inhaled deeply, staring at the floor, as he began, "Well… I've been thinking about your connection with Amara. And how you said you don't think you can kill her."

Dean flinched, glowering cautiously and waiting for the condemnation that he deserved. Instead, Sam went on,

"But, you know, that got me thinking… maybe that doesn't matter. Maybe we _shouldn't_ kill her. I mean, God could have, but he just locked her away."

"Because she's his freakin' _sister_." Besides, God had decided to just lock Lucifer away, too. And look how _that_ had turned out.

Sam shrugged. "But just think. She's basically the ultimate dark, right? And God's the ultimate light. Yin and yang, you know? Maybe you can't really have one without the other. It just seems kinda cosmic."

With a sigh, Dean turned away. "That's way too New Age-y for me." He paused, still not looking at his brother. "You sure you're not just afraid I won't be able to do it?"

"It makes sense, doesn't it?" Sam pointed out, which was not an answer to the question. Which was an answer in itself. Dean let it go with a shrug, turning around.

"What then, lock her up? We don't know how they did it and there's _nothing_ in any of these books or we would have seen it. And Lucifer hasn't been in a hurry to make a move. And I'm _not_ working with that ass-hat as long as he's wearing Cas," the hunter added with a furious scowl.

Shaking his head, Sam agreed, "No arguments. But I think… I know you don't want to hear this… maybe we should try talking to Metatron again."

 _"_ _What_? Come on, man, no!"

"He's the most likely to know-"

"He doesn't know squat, Cas already tried!" Dean pointed out angrily. "What's he gonna know that Lucifer or Gabriel wouldn't? I say we track them down and help Gabriel _make_ the Devil get out!"

"That's your plan?" Sam demanded. "And what about Amara? Gabriel can't take her on himself, even Lucifer knew it would take more than one archangel. And look, I'm glad Gabriel wants to help, but even if we could be sure whose side he's really on, he said himself that he can't pull Lucifer out that easily. But maybe Metatron _will_ know a spell for that."

Dean groaned. The only reason he wanted to find Metatron was so that he could kill the smarmy dick, which seemed only fair since Metatron had killed _him_. Not to mention what he'd done to Cas! On the other hand, if the scribe did know a spell powerful enough to cast out an archangel, Dean would heartily enjoy the chance to beat it out of him.

"Sam…"

"I've been through every book in this place, Dean. Wherever we're gonna find answers, it's not in here. And I can't just sit here. You don't understand, I _know_ what Lucifer is like, when he's in control. What he's probably doing to Cas…"

Dean could see the horror in his brother's eyes, the nightmares that Sam still had to relive from time to time, even now, so long afterward. Having to see that terror in both of them would be too much for Dean to bear. Sam was right: they had to do something. Even if it meant calling on Metatron again. Relenting, the older hunter marched to the closet where his duffel was faithfully waiting.

"Alright," he growled. "I can't get back to sleep after that anyway. Pack up, we roll in five."

* * *

Lucifer wanted to charge straight into the battle, but even with the bloodlust in his veins, he instead flew down into the cover of the forest adjacent to where Amara had been spotted. He adjusted his grip on the sword, waiting until he felt his brother land just behind him with a lightness and stealth that foolish others would believe Gabriel incapable of.

He knew better, though. There was no one who knew Gabriel like Lucifer. In fact, it still amused and baffled him that anyone could actually fall for the buffoonish farce the youngest archangel always put on.

Though, Lucifer had to grudgingly admit, the tactic was effective. Others had always underestimated Gabriel because of it, not realizing that—short of Lucifer himself, and Michael—Gabriel was to be feared more than anyone.

Though his younger brother's mischief was supremely annoying, Lucifer found himself glad to have Gabriel at his back.

"Come out, brother!" Amara shouted, staring at the wide open sky. Wind whipped her long hair and dark dress about her frame, as she stood in open defiance and challenge.

Lucifer almost laughed out loud. Yeah… he'd tried this approach before, several times. God wasn't going to answer her. And if he did, Amara would get the ass-kicking she deserved, because if she had been so weakened by the measly force of the lowliest leftover angels, there was no way she would stand up to the might of God. But God didn't believe in fighting his own battles, he sent the archangels to do the dirty work.

"Ready?" Lucifer whispered to Gabriel, who was fiddling with the spear and frowning at the open glade in front of them. His brother cast a sideways eye at him, and shook his head.

"This is a bad idea. We're not gonna win this."

"Stop worrying. We have the weapons," Lucifer hissed back, gesturing to the spear that Gabriel carried. Of course, he'd have to be ready to disarm his brother quickly as soon as Amara was dead, until he knew where the younger archangel's loyalty truly lied. But that was a concern for later. "She's been weakened. There's the element of surprise. We can end this right now."

"Cut me loose first."

"No. I gave you plenty of room to maneuver. Are you ready, or not?"

"Wait." Gabriel grabbed Lucifer's arm, spinning him so that they were facing each other. A pensive frown was still etched into the younger archangel's features, as he asked, "Aren't you gonna let Cas see what's going on?"

"Oh for-" Lucifer cut off with an irate glower, checking to make sure Amara hadn't heard or noticed them there. They didn't have time for this. The fact that Gabriel was _again_ concerning himself with the completely irrelevant Castiel made Lucifer want to throw him across the field. "His only job is to keep me healed. It doesn't matter if he can see or not."

"But if he sees an attack coming, he could brace-"

"Are you stalling because you're scared?" Lucifer suddenly wondered, the possibility not having occurred to him before. He raised an eyebrow as he regarded his brother, who seemed severely displeased at the implication.

"No!" Gabriel hissed. "I'm not scared, I just think he should-"

"You know I won't let her catch you this time."

"I was _supposed_ to be caught last time. That's kinda the whole point of being bait for a distraction! Lucifer, you're not listening-"

"Let's go."

Without waiting for his brother to reply, Lucifer flew forward at Amara like an arrow released from a bow. His sword was outstretched, pointing towards her, as the Darkness stood in the field. Lucifer's heart pulsated with the anticipation of victory… until she stepped to the side, dodging his strike.

Lucifer swerved in midair with a curse, spinning around in place in time to see her also sidestep Gabriel's attack.

"Well," she said as Gabriel also whipped around to face her again. "I must say, you're a disappointment. I was expecting God, not his brats."

"Hey, Luci, what was that about the element of surprise?" Gabriel muttered from beside him.

So they had lost that advantage. It changed nothing. Lucifer's grim expression shifted into a smirk as he studied his aunt and shook his head. "Amara," he retorted. "Looking a bit under the weather, aren't you? Don't tell me you still haven't recovered from the angels attacking. You've had plenty of time, and… come on… the _angels_? And here I thought you'd be a challenge to beat again."

"Not helping, bro," the younger archangel hissed in his direction, not taking his eyes off their aunt as all three of them began to slowly circle.

Amara's smile curled higher, crueler, much more like the enemy he had remembered from before. "Believe me, nephews, I'm strong enough."

One hand shot out and Lucifer felt a powerful force trying to wrench his blade from his hand. He tightened his grip, teeth gritted, but she somehow managed to rip the weapon away from him, flinging it and Gabriel's spear across the field to land with a clank. Great.

"Hey, Luci," Gabriel snarked. "What was that about having weapons?"

"Shut up, Gabriel."

"I really hate you."

Amara had gotten lucky, but she wasn't going to win this fight. The weapons could help channel an archangel's power, but between himself and Gabriel, they still had three sets of grace. Well, two and a half, perhaps. And she was still weakened, he could verify just from looking that she had yet to recover from Heaven's attack. Still smirking, Lucifer raised both hands and thrust his grace outwards in an explosive beam.

Light flooded the field, crackling out in all directions as his grace collided and joined with Gabriel's, fortunately quick enough to catch on and join the attack empty handed. Their power concentrated on the Darkness before them, as much force as the two archangels could muster. Lucifer heard her gasp in pain through the blinding radiance, and he doubled the force of his attack with a thrill of victory. The blaze built and built, a high whining note filling the air from the celestial power.

Suddenly, it all exploded like a supernova, so intense that the grass scorched black and crumbled to dust. Lucifer shouted in triumph. But when the light faded and died, his elation shifted to confusion. Amara stood there, eyes closed and arms loose, but there was a smile on her face and she was still alive.

"You want to know the truth, boys?" she asked casually, brown gaze snapping open. "All the angels working together are _stronger_ than you. That just tickled."

Shit.

Lucifer had no time to react before Amara had thrown her hands out towards them, flinging him and Gabriel across the field to land with a grunt on the hard ground. The dark archangel glared mutinously, while his brother pushed himself up and growled under his breath,

"Since we might not live long enough to say it later, I'm just gonna do it right now: I _told_ you so."

Ignoring him, Lucifer jumped back to his feet with a shout, only to find Amara standing a mere two feet away, examining his archangel sword in her hands.

"Like I said… disappointing." She sighed. "Not only has my brother not bothered to show up, he can't even send out Heaven's finest to face me. What do I get stuck with? Two reject archangels. Just think, _you_ were his pride and joy?" Amara snorted and shook her head. " _You_ were what he chose, when he had me?"

Lucifer shifted, but Amara raised the blade, letting it hover in the air between them, suspended and poised to shoot forward and run him through if she chose. He stilled, dropping his hands. One palm opened up, though, feeling with his grace for the spear that still sat where it had been flung to the other end of the field.

"Okay," Gabriel piped up from beside him, standing at ease with a winning grin. "We're starting off on the wrong foot, that's all. Let's everyone lighten up. Hey, wanna hear a joke? Three angels walk into a bar-"

"Now I remember why I sealed your mouth shut," Amara cut him off, turning to the younger archangel with a cold glare. "I guess my brother decided to fix you. I don't know why. I was doing everyone a favor."

Lucifer glared at her, still feeling for the spear. Ah, there it was… "Actually," he snapped, a wave of hatred flooding his darkened being, " _I'm_ the one who rescued him." Lucifer could still recall finding Gabriel, tortured and nearly dead, unable to scream or make any wisecracks with his lips seared together. His little brother had played his part as the distraction a little too well, keeping Amara's attention on him so that the rest of them could finish the job, but in that moment, Lucifer had wanted her destroyed, not locked away.

Just like now. Though he would credit Gabriel for having the guts to face her at all, Lucifer felt the subtle twinges of unease in his brother at her words. Directing his thoughts at Gabriel, Lucifer urged him, _"Keep her talking. Almost got it."_

"That wasn't very nice, you know," Gabriel complained, for all the world like she had merely called him a name instead of strapping him down and ripping into his grace, so long ago. "I mean really, what did I ever do to you anyway?"

"You helped them lock me away for billions of years!"

"...Okay, other than that? Besides, you were trying to destroy all of existence, what were we supposed to do?"

"Not to mention that you wouldn't shut up," Amara snapped. She raised her eyes to the sky and shook her head. "The entire time. Your jokes aren't even funny."

"No," Lucifer agreed. "But _this_ will be." With all his strength, he pulled the spear towards himself, so powerful that the air whistled with the force of a hurricane. The bronze tip plunged into Amara from behind, a shockwave blowing the nearby trees almost sideways.

Amara screamed, eyes screwed closed. Wind continued to gather around them, a tornado of fury and raw ferocity, as she burned with the celestial light of the weapon in angry spurts of power. Victory at last! Lucifer straightened, smiling coldly as he waited for her to finally die…

Until she raised her arms, swallowing the wind into herself and staggering slightly in the sudden stillness that followed. Lucifer and Gabriel both took a step back, eyes widening in alarm. Amara was breathing heavily with rage as she reached slowly behind her, jerking the spear free and throwing it to the side. She pressed her hands to the gaping hole in her chest, bright red blood coating her palms. Her furious gaze landed on the archangels, and though Lucifer wasn't afraid, he took another prudent step back as his mind raced to come up with another plan.

"My turn."

Amara's voice was cold enough to freeze even Lucifer's blood as she clapped her hands together in a rush of energy. Beside them, a whirling, dark hole of absolute nothingness opened with a dull roar, a pit into non-being. Both the archangels took off at the same time, but Amara, curse her, was faster.

A stream of power hit Lucifer square between the shoulder-blades, paralyzing his wings. He couldn't fly; he could only fall, straight into the gaping maw of the rushing, black portal. Lucifer gritted his teeth, preparing for the annihilation that would follow.


	7. One Wanted to Turn Back the Clock

Gabriel wasn't given to panic, but if there had ever been a perfect time to do so, it was now. He felt the jolt mid-flight, tethered to his brother, so that when Lucifer fell there was nowhere to go but down. Looking over his shoulder in horror as both archangels were yanked back out of the ether, Gabriel just caught sight of Amara making good on her escape before his full attention was caught up with the swirling vortex of death that they were being sucked towards.

"Luci!" Swearing, Gabriel poured all his strength into keeping his massive, invisible wings beating in an attempt to fly away. She must have hit Lucifer's, because he was either unconscious or dead, his weight pulling them ever closer to imminent destruction.

If they fell into that pit of nothingness, it wouldn't send them to Hell. It was light's out for good, total nonexistence.

" _Hang on_!" he shouted over his shoulder, though neither of his brothers would hear him.

Unable to fly them out, Gabriel aimed for a tree beside the clearing, dropping to the ground to wrap his arms in a death grip around the solid trunk. He heard the wood groan under the strain, but that portal couldn't last forever… he just had to keep them out until it shut itself down. He chanced a look back, heart seizing as he realized Lucifer was already half inside the vortex—everything above his upper torso was gone, and if Gabriel didn't pull him back out before it closed, both Lucifer and Castiel were dead.

"Hold on!" Terrified for his brothers, Gabriel let out another wordless shout as his powerful wings beat even harder. The trees beside him trembled under the backdraft, creaking as they bowed low before snapping in half. The effort gained him an inch, as Gabriel pulled his legs up so that Lucifer and Cas were reeled in ever so slightly, chin just visible from the event horizon. Gabriel's entire leg felt like it was going to be wrenched right off of his body as Lucifer's weight on the other end of the chain kept the bond cruelly tight.

Adrenaline pulsed through his body as the archangel clung to the tree, wrapping himself around the base to hopefully act as a counterweight to Lucifer. Desperation gained him another inch, and then another. Little by little, he pulled Lucifer and Castiel back from the brink of annihilation, clawing his way around the tree with such intense determination, the earth began to rumble.

A low _woosh_ preceded a rush of wind as the hole closed in on itself, with Lucifer and Cas safely on the side of existence. The staggering pressure on Gabriel's ankle released. Collapsing down to the ground to pant with exhaustion, Gabriel allowed himself only a few seconds to gather enough strength to unwind himself from the tree and fly to Lucifer's side.

"Luci. _Luci?_ Damn you, Lucifer, open your eyes! Come on, _open_ them!" Gabriel smacked his brother across the face, terrified at how still the powerful archangel was. Nothing happened. Grasping Lucifer by the shoulders, Gabriel started shaking him, yelling the entire time. "Wake up! Lucifer, I swear to Dad, if you don't show me some life here, I'm gonna kick your ass to Purgatory and back. _Wake up!_ "

Being dunked into nothingness and then pulled back out had clearly taken its toll, though. Lucifer refused to so much as twitch, but Gabriel wouldn't let him off the hook so easily. Gathering his brother up in his arms, trying not to notice how frail Castiel's body looked in this state, Gabriel spread his wings and flew back to Lucifer's unofficial headquarters.

The demons were clearly startled when he landed in the throne room with a whisper of wind, laying his brother on the floor. They immediately surged forwards, pushing in and craning their necks to see what had happened to their leader.

"Is he dead? Never seen-"

"What about the Darkness?"

"-think she killed him?"

"-thought he was stronger-"

Whipping his head around, Gabriel drew himself up and bellowed, "GET OUT!"

The demons fled, nowhere near prepared for the wrath of a distraught archangel. Gabriel paid them no attention, his focus solely on the form lying still and silent on the floor. He gritted his teeth, preparing to pour some healing power into his brother, but he didn't really even know what to fix.

"Don't you _dare_ die on me," he whispered, a hand on his brother's forehead in search of the smallest sign that Castiel was still in there at all.

Yes, there were definitely two distinct essences inhabiting the body, and Gabriel slumped back in relief when he felt Cas's heart stutter and then start beating at last. Thank Dad.

"Lucifer!" he called again, giving his brother another firm love tap across the face. "Hey! Wake up, let's go."

The older archangel shifted, eyes blinking slowly open to stare up at Gabriel. Lucifer didn't seem immediately aware of what had happened or what was going on. He frowned, then looked around as though in search of Amara.

"How did we get out?" Lucifer rasped, coughing a bit as he pushed himself away from Gabriel. "The portal…"

Gabriel couldn't help but reach out to his brother again, gripping his shoulder, surveying Lucifer to assess how much damage had been done. Lucifer impatiently pushed the hand away, or tried to. It had been a long time since Gabriel had seen him so weak.

"I pulled you out," he said simply. He gestured down to the chain around his ankle. "Guess your paranoia came in handy after all."

"Paranoia?" Lucifer snorted, but let it go. He groaned softly, wiping his forehead with a trembling hand. "Did you kill her?"

"Uh, no, I was kinda busy saving your ass," Gabriel dryly pointed out. He shrugged. "She scampered. Guess we did some damage."

"Good. We can track her down and finish this."

Gabriel wanted to throttle his older brother, his hand dropping away in disbelief. "Track her down? Are you out of your mind? I _told_ you we weren't ready, and she kicked our _asses!_ And look at you, you can't even stand. How are you gonna fight? Let me heal you-"

"No need. I've got a backup, remember?"

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "I can barely feel Cas in there. He's not gonna have enough power to heal you both."

"He doesn't have to heal us both," Lucifer pointed out, shrugging. "He just has to heal me."

Well, there went any concern or feelings of nostalgia Gabriel could have _possibly_ harbored for his older brother. How was Castiel supposed to heal Lucifer when he was almost out of juice? "You were almost dead, you asshole. If he hadn't been in there fighting to hold you together, you probably wouldn't have pulled through! At least let me give Cas a refill-"

"Later, Gabriel." Lucifer's face was too cold to be the brother that Gabriel had once known, completely unconcerned for the angel he was slowly killing. "He's going to need a power boost, yes, but he can wait until later."

"Why wait, huh? You just want to torture him a bit longer, don't you. To take out your pissy attitude on him because _you_ lost the fight with Amara."

It wasn't a question, and Lucifer didn't give him an answer, beyond a disinterested smirk that was all the confirmation Gabriel needed. The younger archangel's fists clenched, but there was realistically nothing he could do, not without hurting Castiel in the process. Helpless, he watched Lucifer journey inwards to mete out whatever punishment he thought the lower angel deserved.

* * *

Castiel had given everything he had, but he was burning out too fast. Something had gone wrong, he could feel it, but he had no idea what. He didn't even know if he was dying, or if perhaps Lucifer had simply forgotten he was there.

It had been some time since the Devil had toyed with his mind or shown up himself to torment the angel. Castiel wasn't sure if that was because he had Gabriel to distract him now, or if they were in battle with Amara, or if the Winchesters had shown up and were wounded. All he knew was that _something_ had caused insurmountable damage.

The angel gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as he glowed with the last weak remnants of power, trying to hold his body together and wondering why Lucifer hadn't realized yet that Castiel needed more. Was it all over?

The thought made him falter, and Castiel felt his body slowly trying to disintegrate, but he was losing the ability to stop that from happening.

 _Lucifer_ , he thought desperately, unable to even pray to the Devil with his true voice gagged. _Please. I can't help in this battle if I don't get more power soon…_

As though hearing his silent plea, the light suddenly turned on. Footsteps, heavy and ominous, thudded towards him, but Castiel could barely even open his eyes to look up at his brother. Head lolling forward, he managed to stay upright as the presence came to a stop beside him and jerked out the gag.

"Lucifer…" Castiel murmured, hands hanging limp in the yoke chains. "Please… please…"

"What?" Lucifer shot back. The ugly tone in his voice made the angel tense instinctively. "You were absolutely useless today. Not sure why I'd expect otherwise, of course. 'Useless' just seems to be part of your personality."

Castiel's heart clenched. Not because Lucifer said it, but because it was only one more confirmation of what he'd been feeling for so long now, what others had implied or stated. Swallowing, the angel finally peeled his eyes open and tilted his head as far up as he could, though he could only hold it there for a few seconds before exhaustion forced him to look back down.

"We… we fought Amara?" he rasped.

Lucifer snorted with laughter. "What do you mean, 'we'? Gabriel and I fought her. You just took up space. Now, if you'd been a bit stronger, maybe we would have had enough power to take her out."

Heart sinking a bit more, head drooping with shame, Castiel swallowed. He was so disoriented from the sensory deprivation and exhaustion, it was getting hard to think, and he just wanted to pass out until his grace recharged. "I'm running too low. I- I need…" His vision swam in and out of focus. There was a rustle of movement beside him, then the angel felt cruel hands thrusting the gag back into his mouth as he tried to shy back in dismay.

"Like I said. Useless." Lucifer gave him a harsh shake, then straightened.

There was a moment of silence, just enough to make Castiel uneasy. The angel managed to look up again, watching Lucifer examine the back of his hand, now starting to peel once more as Castiel's power fizzled and died. He swallowed. Lucifer was going to punish him for this… but he had no more healing to give.

With a snort, Lucifer healed himself instead, then gazed down at the angel with a look that made Castiel even edgier.

"I stand corrected," Lucifer said, shrugging. He gazed down at the angel, rubbing his jaw musingly. "I guess 'useless' merely implies that you don't do any good. But you, Castiel… you're worse than 'no good'. You break everything you touch, and everything you do goes wrong. I should have known that involving _you_ in this plan would just bring bad luck."

Castiel felt his heart burn with pain, because this was nothing but truth. Weakly, he tried to muster up some strength to help Lucifer heal a bit more, but it was no use. He looked away, trying to shut out his brother's words, to fortify the walls in his heart. Again, the attempt failed.

"And I'm not just saying that because I hate you, which I do," Lucifer pointed out, prowling a slow circle around Castiel. "Everyone knows it. Sam and Dean, they didn't have such a great life to begin with, but when did it really start to spiral? Not until _you_ showed up. I mean, you broke Sam, which I have to thank you for. You set the Leviathan free, which is how their dear Bobby Singer was killed. You got all the angels kicked out of Heaven, which is how their dear Kevin was killed. And poor Dean thinks _he's_ cursed, when really _you're_ the one who keeps screwing it all up, not him."

If only he could block his ears. Castiel closed his eyes, a soft groan of defeat escaping through the gag though he tried to bite it back. He was too exhausted to find the emotional fortitude to withstand Lucifer's scathing critique.

"So, yeah," the Devil finished, sounding almost amused. "I should have found a better angel to help kill Amara. Oh well. I suppose I'll have to make do. Meanwhile, if you're not going to do the _one_ thing I asked of you and keep us healed, I don't suppose you really need any power at all right now. Hold still."

With only that word of warning, Castiel didn't have time to prepare himself before Lucifer's hand had suddenly shoved right into his chest. The angel screamed into the gag, eyes shooting wide open as he instinctively tried to thrash away. Chained as he was, though, he couldn't move as Lucifer siphoned away any last vestige of power that he had left while pushing his hand in deeper.

"I want you to know," Lucifer said with a smile. "I'm going to enjoy this part."

The explosive pain was brief, but so ferocious that for a second, Castiel thought Lucifer had killed him. It felt like the archangel had grabbed Castiel's spine from the inside, snapping it in two. Paralysis set in instantly. When Lucifer ripped his hand out of Castiel's body, the angel collapsed back with a dull thud at the archangel's feet, all feeling and muscle control stolen from him. Only Castiel's eyes could move, following the Devil with panic as he loomed over his immobile victim.

"Much better," Lucifer decided, looking fully refreshed even as the angel lay empty on the floor. He smiled down at the helpless angel, digging a harsh foot into Castiel's unprotected side. "I love that fear in your eyes. You're expecting me to hurt you now. I could. So easily. I could carve you to pieces, one strip of flesh at a time, and you couldn't even move."

A blade dropped into his hand, and Castiel couldn't fully choke back a soft moan as he waited for the torture to start. Being paralyzed didn't mean Lucifer wouldn't make sure he felt every second of the agony.

The pain never came. The archangel was still standing over him, regarding him too thoughtfully, but not moving. Despite Castiel's pride, he couldn't help but avert his gaze, terrified at the notion of being at his brother's mercy. The angel had never felt helplessness _this_ absolute. He heard Lucifer chuckle.

"But to be honest, you're really not worth the effort." The Devil turned away as a wider smile grew. "Goodbye, Castiel."

He disappeared in a flash of light, but his darkness and his voice remained, echoing off the empty walls that hemmed Castiel in. _Useless… WORSE than useless. Everything you touch goes wrong. You're not even worth the effort._

Castiel longed to cover his ears, but he couldn't move. Until his grace was recharged, he couldn't even heal himself, couldn't fix his broken spine… couldn't do anything but lie there in the dark and listen to the cruel words. It would have been bad enough to be just Lucifer, but his brother wouldn't let him off that easy: eventually the voice faded into Dean and Sam's, and that was what destroyed the angel in the end.

_You broke my brother. I'll never forgive you for that._

_It's just too bad you didn't stay dead. We would have been better off._

_The people I love DIED because you can't do anything right. It should have been YOU we buried, not them._

_You're a curse, Cas. I don't want you in the bunker. I don't want you anywhere near me._

_You can't stay here._

Castiel gave up. It was nothing that he didn't already believe, but to hear it from the two humans who he wanted to protect more desperately than anything… he just couldn't do it. Castiel couldn't fight anymore.

Hot moisture filled his eyes as he stared sightlessly up at the blank ceiling of his prison. Lucifer had won. Tears would serve no purpose but to provide amusement for the dark archangel, but Castiel felt them slip down his cheeks, and he was too low, too wretched, to even attempt to stifle them.

The voices continued. Sam, Dean, Bobby, Balthazar, Anna, Samandriel, even his own voice, condemning him, verbally flogging him until he was little more than a flayed and dying nerve. Castiel couldn't even think, not with all those voices. There was no escape, and no one was coming to help him, and why should they? He was worse than no good. He brought bad luck, destruction, death.

How long the torture continued, Castiel didn't know, alone in the dark with every freedom stripped from him. Eventually, he felt a glow suffusing his being with healing power, strength pouring back into him as his grace was renewed. It felt different this time; warm instead of raw, golden instead of white. Gabriel, then. It was enough that the angel was allowed to put his body back in order, bone and nerves knitting together so that his fingers could curl lightly up, but Castiel made no attempt to get off the cold floor.

Useless. Expendable. A curse. The mantra echoed in his prison, repeating itself again and again. Useless. Expendable. A curse. Useless. Expendable…

_"Hey, sport, you with me?"_

Castiel jolted with shock at Gabriel's voice unexpectedly loud in the dark place. The others grew fuzzy, then quiet, until they were little more than a buzz barely noticeable in the background. Castiel frowned, eyes darting warily around in search of Lucifer, wondering what this new trick was.

_"I figure old dick-face probably found a way to keep you shut up, but he didn't think of everything. Try saying something to me."_

Panic filled the angel, eyes flying wide as he squirmed in dismay. What was Gabriel doing? When Lucifer heard-

_"Oh and don't worry, Lucifer won't hear."_

Oh. Castiel's frown deepened with uncertainty. How was that possible? Lucifer was sure to be monitoring Angel Radio. Even if he wasn't blocking Gabriel's voice from getting in, he must certainly still hear it.

_"But… my true voice is gagged, too."_

_"Hah! It worked! Nah, whatever he's gagging you with just keeps you off the main channels and out of HIS mind. But I'm reading you loud and clear."_

_"…How?"_

_"Oh, easy. All angels are hooked into Angel Radio, right? Lucifer agreed to let me heal you, so as long as I was in there, I did something super clever."_

Castiel waited, hearing the gloating in Gabriel's voice, as the archangel finished,

_"I changed your station. Actually it wasn't all that hard. You're on Gabriel Radio now."_

The angel blinked. That actually made sense. He sagged with relief. Even though he couldn't see Gabriel, it was a true comfort just to hear his older brother's voice. At least Gabriel didn't seem intent on torturing him at the moment.

Or… or perhaps he was that cruel, to lull Castiel into a false sense of comfort only to rip everything away. It wasn't like Gabriel had never hurt him before, indirectly. And who knew how fully Lucifer had sank his claws into the other archangel by now? Tensing again, Castiel demanded,

_"And this is real? How do I know this isn't a trick of Lucifer's?"_

_"It's NOT. It's really me."_

_"Why are you here, Gabriel? What are you going to do to me that Lucifer hasn't already done?"_

Castiel didn't actually want an answer. Lucifer was cruel and sadistic, but Gabriel was creative.

There was a pause, then Gabriel replied, _"I'm not gonna 'do' anything to you, kiddo. Come on, I know I messed with you a bit in TV land, but… you can't really think I'm like Lucifer. You're still my little brother, Cas. But if I'm gonna help, I gotta know what's going on. What's he done to you?"_

Closing his eyes, Castiel swallowed against the gag. The distrust started to drain away. He wasn't accustomed to the vaguely gentle tone in Gabriel's voice, the angry protectiveness that Castiel hadn't heard from him since before the archangel had left Heaven. Nor could he answer the question, in no mood to relive the various tortures that Lucifer had been inflicting on him.

 _"Well… look, I'm here now, okay?"_ Gabriel finally said when Castiel didn't answer. " _Sorry I can't take off the blindfold, but I'm gonna leave this channel open so you should be able to hear what's going on out here through me. Just don't react to anything, 'cause Luci will feel that, and I don't think either of us want him figuring out what we're up to. And hey… it's a good thing you were in there, or I'd be trying to take on Amara myself now, and then we'd REALLY be screwed. It's gonna take all of us. Including you, Cas. Just stick with me, bro, 'kay?"_

Some of the exhaustion was starting to lift from his heart and mind, now that he had a bit more grace as well as a link to the outside world. Castiel wearily thought back, _"Okay…"_

Fighting was still beyond him; the deprecating voices still rang in his mind, even though they'd been stifled, and the angel ached with longing for this to all be over. But at least he wasn't alone now. In spite of his initial hesitation to trust the Trickster, Gabriel seemed oddly sincere.

Maybe… maybe there was some hope.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: hooray, at last Cas isn't alone! But they're no closer to solving this thing...
> 
> Stay tuned!


	8. One Thought Only of Family

Castiel hadn't been very chatty so far, which was probably for the best. It had been a risky move on Gabriel's part; if Lucifer figured out that he and Cas were cahooting, they were both likely to pay. Or at least the lesser angel was, and Gabriel didn't care for that thought. As it was, the despondency and weakness in his brother's tone when he did talk was enough to alarm the archangel.

The faster they took care of this Amara situation, the better.

"No, Luci, will you use your head for crying out loud?" he snapped, crossing his arms as he glowered at his older brother. "Amara just got finished kicking our asses, now you want to go back out there and do it all over again?"

"She's been weakened. If she was strong enough to fight, she would have finished us off."

"Not that it matters," Gabriel pointed out with a shrug. "We don't know where she is now. And if she _is_ weak enough to be killed, you can bet she's gonna be holed up somewhere."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed in irritation, turning away from Gabriel with a huff, which was completely unfair since Gabriel was only pointing out the grossly obvious. Although, he did actually have the beginnings of a plan.

 _"_ _Hey, Cas, don't react to this…"_ he thought at his younger brother.

_"_ _Don't react to… what?"_

_"_ _Sorry 'bout this, champ."_ Out loud, Gabriel said, "You know what we really need to do is get the Winchesters in here." He winced internally, knowing that Castiel was going to hate this idea. He'd give the kid credit, though… Cas could mask his emotions like nobody's business. Probably came from the fact that emotions were a punishable offense under Michael's regime, so he had plenty of practice.

_"_ _Gabriel… what are you doing? I want them kept safe."_

"Interesting," Lucifer grumbled, turning back around with a suspicious glower. "And why exactly do we really need the Winchesters in here?"

"Uh, maybe because they kicked _your_ ass, didn't they? Mine, too," Gabriel quickly amended when Lucifer's expression turned thunderous. "And, let's see, Lilith's, Michael's, Raphael's, the Leviathans', Metatron's, Abaddon's, hell, even Cain's. Dude… they killed _DEATH._ No one kills Death. I know you don't like them-"

Lucifer snorted again, turning back around and starting to walk away with an irate, "Come."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, not moving until he realized Lucifer wasn't going to stop. The chain on his ankle went taut as the slack disappeared, forcing him to follow obediently after his brother, which was really just insanely infuriating.

"But they _do_ have one helluva track record," Gabriel called out as he hurried to catch up, trailing behind Lucifer as the angry archangel moved from one torch-lit room to the next in his stone headquarters. "Wouldn't hurt to have all hands on deck. Besides… I seem to remember from Castiel's recap that she's connected to Dean."

"So?"

"Damn it, will you stand still for one minute? Dean's probably the only one who can draw her to him. Don't you think an advantage like that would be good to have?"

This brought Lucifer to a halt, calculating eyes regarding Gabriel. Inside, Cas began to shift with uneasiness for the first time. It had to be done, though, even if Castiel couldn't see that, blinded by his devotion to his friends.

_"_ _Gabriel, I don't want him anywhere near Dean!"_

_"_ _Easy, Cas,"_ Gabriel warned. He watched Lucifer's face for any sign that he'd felt Castiel stirring, but the elder archangel looked merely musing.

"Interesting. Use the Winchester as bait."

"Well, they could help fight, too. Come on, bro, they've pulled some pretty impressive Hail Marys. Sure, they're about as much fun as burning in holy fire, but we oughtta try working with them."

Castiel didn't say anything, but Gabriel got the impression that his younger brother was biting his tongue. He kept his own expression carefully bland as Lucifer slowly began to nod. A smile slid onto the Devil's face, which was a bit less than comforting.

"Alright, then."

Lucifer's hand shot out, grabbing Gabriel before taking off and landing seconds later back in the throne room. Gabriel yelped in surprise as he was shoved backwards onto the ornate chair, the chain following along to lock him in place.

"Hey! Come on, Luci, what the hell?"

"Just a precaution, little brother. I'll go check their bunker. Even if it's warded, I should be able to tell if they're home. If they are… well, they can't stay inside it forever."

Damn it! Gabriel opened his mouth to argue, but Lucifer had already flown off again. Grumbling with ire, the younger archangel crossed his arms and slouched back in the chair with a pout. Fantastic. _"Hang on, Cas, I'm gonna see if they're asleep. If so, I can warn them."_

But no matter how hard he cast his mind out to the dreamscapes of the world, none of them belonged to the Winchesters. It was the middle of the day… catching them in a dream had been a long shot anyway.

_"_ _Sorry, Castiel. You're gonna have to trust me, though."_

Cas didn't answer, but that was probably a good thing. Without Gabriel to distract Lucifer, the older archangel would be more likely to notice Castiel's movements and any out of place emotions. Gabriel sighed and glared out at the room, only now noticing the crowd of demons staring at him with wide, slightly wary eyes. Several of them were already surreptitiously inching back.

"I mean, did you see that?" Gabriel addressed them, gesturing in the direction Lucifer had just been standing. "The ingratitude! What did I do to deserve that?"

The demons traded looks, none of them hurrying to answer. They seemed simultaneously awed and terrified, and more than a little confused. Gabriel found this exceptionally satisfying.

"That's Lucifer, though," he went on with an easy shrug, shifting to lounge more casually on the throne. "No appreciation whatsoever. But hey, I guess I don't need to tell you bunch that, huh? Come on, I won't tell. Isn't he just the worst boss?"

A couple of the demons furtively nodded, which made Gabriel grin.

"Cause he's an ass-brained douche-bucket. But let me tell you what, he wasn't always so big in the britches. I remember this one time…"

Launching into a lengthy tale involving Lucifer, a primordial Siren, and an absurd amount of embellishing the actual facts, Gabriel skillfully drew the demons in until they were gathered around the throne, laughing uproariously at his stories. He had them so at ease that they forgot to be scared of him, fully taken in by his lightness of manner and dangerous charisma. Each story he told grew more outrageous, but never outside the realm of plausibility, and none that painted Lucifer in a particularly flattering light.

"The best I ever saw, though," he finished, leaning back in the throne like he owned it, "was when dear old Dad invented the jellyfish. Did you know that Lucifer—invincible, terrifying, father of all evil Lucifer—is deathly afraid of 'em? He thinks they're just horrifying. The day Dad brought out the prototype…" Gabriel paused to laugh, wiping at imaginary tears of hilarity while the demons eagerly leaned in closer. "He actually hid behind Michael and _cried_!"

The audience erupted into laughter at the image… and were immediately silenced as a shadow whispered into the room with an air of malice. Gabriel hid his smirk as the entire congregation fled to return to their business. Footsteps approached, coming to a stop directly behind the throne.

"Uh-oh," Gabriel drawled. "He's behind me isn't he? Sorry, bro, just fulfilling my duty as a younger brother to share all the embarrassing stories of our youth."

"It's not even a true story, Gabriel."

The archangel twisted around, kicking his foot just enough to jingle the ethereal chain, hopefully to get his point across. "And…?"

Lucifer's expression darkened; he wasn't amused. Gabriel didn't particularly care. He didn't see any Winchesters in tow, though. Raising his eyebrows, he asked,

"What, they didn't answer the door when you tried to get in dressed as their best friend? Shocking."

The chain reattached itself to Lucifer, reeling in so quickly that Gabriel had to jump off the throne and hop one-footed towards his brother until they were almost touching. The proximity was meant to be a threat, he knew, and Gabriel suspected he was starting to overstep the boundaries of Lucifer's patience. Maybe it was time to back off a bit. The idea was to push his brother's buttons, not _actually_ get himself stabbed.

"They weren't home," Lucifer replied, soft and icy. He turned for the throne, taking the seat that Gabriel had vacated, which left the younger archangel to stand next to it like some kind of servant, which really pissed him off. "Doesn't matter. I've got my best demon on the trail. The Hellhound will hunt them down soon enough."

Shit. This was not what Gabriel had had in mind when he suggested a collaboration with Sam and Dean. Keeping an outwardly unconcerned air, he sighed internally.

_"_ _Sorry, Cas. The plan was to try TALKING them into helping out."_

_"_ _It doesn't matter."_ Damn, Castiel sounded so broken. _"They were cursed the moment I pulled Dean out of Hell."_

 _"_ _WHOA, nuh-uh, I don't want to hear that kind of trash. Is that what Lucifer's been telling you? He would. Listen to me, Castiel."_ Gabriel sobered immediately, though his face betrayed nothing. _"And you listen good. This would all be gone now if it wasn't for you. All of it. The Winchesters, the world, EVERYTHING. Come on, dude, you know Raphael would have burned it all to the ground. And you've kept Sam and Dean going more times than I can count. More times than they might even know."_

There was only silence from Cas, which wasn't the whole-hearted agreement that Gabriel was hoping for. But, damn, it'd been a long time since he'd had to be all reassuring and supportive. He wasn't used to this.

 _"_ _And THEY know it, too,"_ he went on, whistling a little tune and materializing some sweets to eat while they passed the time. _"Sam and Dean. I went and had a chat with them before. Apparently they've been praying like crazy, trying to reach you, only Lucifer keeps blocking everything so you can't hear. They aren't gonna quit on you, bro."_

Only the slightest, tiniest shift in Castiel's emotions assured Gabriel that he was getting through at all, but that little bit of hope was all the archangel needed. Greatly encouraged, he added,

 _"_ _Seriously. The only time I've seen them THIS determined was when it was each other in trouble. The way they were acting, they must think you're right up there on that level. So hang in there, kiddo. Don't you listen to a word Lucifer says, got it?"_ He paused, not sure he wanted an answer to his next question: _"Is he telling you things right now?"_

With the down time while they waited for the demonic hunter to track Sam and Dean, Lucifer must be feeling the boredom. Gabriel knew Lucifer. He was certain that the archangel was tormenting Cas at that very moment, and sure enough, the angel finally offered him a strained answer.

_"_ _Yes."_

He didn't elaborate, but there was no need.

_"_ _Well, I've got news for Lucifer… I'm a lot louder than him, and I can talk for longer. Hey, Cas, you remember when you were just a fledgling, and I had you convinced that stars were made by archangel sneezes, and you spent a whole day trying to brush Michael's nose with your feathers to make him sneeze?"_

Gabriel thought he felt Cas try not to smile a bit. Twisting towards Lucifer, he launched into a separate reminiscing session out loud with the older archangel, holding both conversations equally with the skill of someone who had a lot of skill in such areas. Maybe he could distract Lucifer enough that he would leave Castiel alone, since his brother wasn't as practiced at being two places at once.

And in the meantime, maybe he could try to figure out what the hell his next move was going to be…

* * *

"This is a friggin' waste of time," Dean grumbled as he pulled the Impala into a parking spot and killed the engine. "Come on, Sammy… even if we _find_ Metatron, which is a big if, Cas already worked him over and didn't get squat."

"You got anything else to go on?" Sam pointed out. He looked up at the rundown craphole of a building that Cas had found before. "The Men of Letters can't help with this one. Metatron is the only one who might know something."

"Might. _Might_. Meanwhile, Lucifer has Cas, and we're hanging his life on ' _might_ '."

Sam twisted back towards his brother, face darkening. He knew Dean was just worried, but Sam was one more negative reminder of Cas's condition away from snapping. They couldn't afford that. Cas couldn't afford that. "This is our best shot. I don't know about you, but I'm gonna take it. Waste of time or not, I'm not going to let anything happen to him because we didn't bother to chase this down. Now you coming, or not?"

Stony, the younger Winchester pushed his way out of the car and slammed the door, knowing Dean was going to be right behind him. Together they headed towards the front office, such as it was. This was even worse than the crappy motels they frequented; apparently Metatron's books and movies hadn't taught him how to get himself a bogus credit card.

"If Meta-douche stuck around here after Cas found him," Dean muttered as the office door swung closed behind them with a squeal of rusted hinges, "he's even dumber than I thought."

Sam nodded, but not with much hope. He seriously doubted Metatron was still living here. "Best place to pick up his trail," he muttered back. They drew even with the front desk; a sallow, oily looking man who reminded Sam strongly of a ferret looked up at them like they were interrupting something important.

"Yeah?" he demanded before they could say anything.

"Hey, Skippy," Dean retorted sarcastically. "You can get back to your porn in a second, we just want to ask you some questions."

"Why, you guys cops or something?"

"Or something," Sam jumped in before Dean could say anything. "We're looking for a guy named Marv. He was staying here a while ago, but not sure if he still is. Sound familiar?"

The guy behind the desk paused, squinting at the Winchesters appraisingly. He pursed his lips, then asked, "You from the TV station?"

Sam traded a quick look with Dean before flashing a casual smile. "Yeah. Yeah, that's right. Is he here?"

"No," the man answered, pushing himself back and pulling a drawer open. "But he was getting all bent out of shape that someone from the station might want to send him another gig and not be able to get in touch with him. Dunno what kind of a loser doesn't have a phone these days. He gave me three months' rent if I would leave his forwarding address for anyone from the station."

It was all Sam could do to keep a straight face. He didn't know which was more horrifyingly amateur… that Metatron had let himself be suckered out of three months of rent for such a simple task, or that he had _left_ a _forwarding address_. Reading all the books in the world clearly hadn't actually prepared the dickbag for navigating real life without any powers. Beside Sam, Dean was squirming with suppressed disbelief, but they both managed to bite their tongues.

"Thanks," the older hunter said with a smirk, holding out his hand for the scrap of paper the man had unearthed from the drawer.

The attendant moved to drop the paper in Dean's hand, but then pulled it away again. "Of course, this seems to be pretty valuable information-"

He was cut off as Dean grabbed him by the collar of his dirty shirt and yanked him forward across the desk so fast that they nearly collided heads. The man froze, eyes widening in panic as Dean leaned in close with a clenched jaw.

"I need him to help me get someone _very_ important back," he seethed. "And _you_ are in my way."

No further threat was needed, though Sam was hardly surprised. With huge eyes, the clerk dropped the piece of paper, hands up and trying to cow back. Dean let him go with a jerk, then swiped the paper off the counter. He gave it a cursory look, then shoved it in his pocket and nodded to Sam.

"Let's go," he snapped, spinning on his heel and turning back towards the door. Sam hurried to follow, hardly daring to believe their luck. Surely it wasn't going to be _this_ easy. It was _never_ this easy. Sam suspected things were about to go bad.

"Legit?" he asked in half desperation. "You think?"

"Good enough for me," Dean snapped, still short tempered and surly. Halfway to the Impala, though, he suddenly froze and grabbed Sam's sleeve.

"Uh… Dean?"

"Shut up!" Dean hissed, head cocked, listening intently. Sam blinked, straining to hear what might have caught his brother's attention. When Dean suddenly jolted with actual fear, Sam's heart sank. Yeah. He hated being right. Things were about to go horribly wrong, because there was only one thing that frightened his big brother so much.

The ethereal howl pierced the still air, and all the hair on the back of Sam's neck stood on end. His eyes widened with dismay, as Dean shouted,

"Run, Sammy!"

They tore off towards the car, howls getting louder behind them. How had a Hellhound tracked them down? _Why_ had a Hellhound tracked them down? Footsteps pounding on the concrete, Sam heard the hellish beast closing the distance way too fast, and he realized they weren't going to make it only a second before Dean went down with a shout.

"DEAN!" Sam shouted, whipping back around with gun already in hand. It wouldn't do a damn thing to stop a Hellhound, but he had to try. Dean was on the ground, struggling to roll over onto his back as he held off the invisible monster with his bare hands. Sam could hear its ferocious barks, its snapping jaws, and he used the sound to take aim and fire off three shots in quick succession.

It did nothing.

Hating himself for turning his back on Dean, Sam spun around and sprinted the rest of the way to the Impala. If Dean could hold it off long enough for Sam to get into the trunk, he could grab the spare angel blade they kept there.

Sam never made it to the car. An invisible force jerked him backwards like a giant hand plucking him up and throwing him back to the ground next to Dean. Sam groaned and tried to catch his breath.

"Sam!" Dean yelled uselessly, both arms still reaching up to hold the Hellhound back. "Get outta here!"

Like _that_ was going to happen. Sam looked up to see a woman standing over him, black eyes giving her away. Her face lit in an evil gloat, and she wiggled her fingers in a mocking wave.

"Hello, Winchesters."

Sam's expression pinched, and he rolled over in preparation to jump onto his feet. It was a useless effort, of course, and he felt the heavy paw hit the small of his back before he ever had a chance to get further than his stomach. It shoved him down hard, making the hunter grunt in pain as he found himself pinned to the ground. Heated breath snuffled down his neck as the weight increased, and he froze. Dean had also stopped struggling, face twisted towards him with masked dismay. Low growls still filled the air warningly.

"Make a move, Sam," the demon said, "and Goliath here will rip big brother's throat out."

Sam swallowed, picking his head up just enough to watch over his shoulder as she leaned down and groped around his waistband. Beside him, Dean snorted.

"Lady, you could at least buy him a drink first."

The demon shot him a scathing look, straightening back up with Sam's demon-killing knife in her hand. She tucked it safely away, then informed them with delight,

"Boss wants a word with you."

"Who, Lucifer?" Dean demanded, wiggling a bit more. "Tell him he can kiss my ass-"

She didn't wait for him to finish. Reaching down, the demon grabbed both of them by the arms and then everything disappeared. Sam rode out the unpleasant whirl of motion, even worse than when Cas flew with them. He barely had enough time to register that they were somewhere indoors, stone walls lit by nothing but flickering fire, before he was thrown across the room again. He landed with a thud and a grunt, listening as something heavy and metal swung closed behind him with a slam.

"Hey!" he yelled, fighting his way to his feet. The demon stood on the other side of the barred door that locked him into what looked like a small prison cell. Next to him, Dean was trapped in a cell of his own, looking murderous. The demon sauntered forward, giving them a wink.

"Now just sit tight, boys. Lucifer will see you soon."


	9. This Story is Full of Pain

"My lord."

Lucifer's eyes shifted to the demon striding through the doorway, his hand raising to cut Gabriel off mid-conversation. His brother fell silent, also watching as the smug looking demon walked straight up to the throne and then stopped, bowing.

"The Winchesters are in custody," she reported proudly. "I have them in the dungeon."

Lucifer smiled. Finally. Every second that they weren't destroying Amara grated at his pride. He couldn't believe she had gotten the better of him… though they _had_ seen what she was capable of, the first time. Grudgingly, he had to acknowledge the fact that Gabriel had probably been a vital piece to their escape from the portal. Little brother had grown up a lot from being the bait to occupy her wrath—for which Lucifer was oddly glad.

"Great," Gabriel piped up, leaning casually against the throne. "But we still need a plan, 'cause, uh… your last one didn't work out so hot."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Do you have a suggestion, or are you just going to be critical?"

"Actually," Gabriel went on, sobering. "I've kinda been thinking. Why didn't we kill her the first time?"

"What?"

"No, think about it." Gabriel gestured vaguely upwards. "Dad… I get it, she's his sister, he didn't really want her dead, but why would he go to all the pain and trouble of locking her up when he _knew_ if she busted out, it'd all be for nothing? Even Dad must've realized it'd make more sense to kill her. But we didn't. Why?"

Lucifer stared at his brother and shook his head. "What does it matter? We won't make that mistake again."

"Uh, sorry to say it, bro, but we might have to. I don't know if we even _can_ kill Amara, but we _know_ she can be trapped. I think we oughtta try it that way again. Do you remember the spell?"

"No," he replied sourly. "Our job was to keep her weak and distracted. I came to get you while God and Michael took care of the spell. I had no part in it except to take on the Mark."

Gabriel frowned, expression proving once again that he actually _was_ capable of seriousness, when it suited him. "We need to get that spell, then. If there's a chance Michael might remember-"

"Michael can't help us," Lucifer interrupted with a glower. "Cage life didn't suit him. Trust me, I was in there with him long enough to know he's not _Michael_ anymore, he's little more than a wild animal. I would have put him down myself if it were possible to die in the Cage."

"…Well, that's super disturbing."

Lucifer shrugged. Michael had brought his own fate on himself, and he'd burned the bridge first by attacking Lucifer… who had, after all, offered him an out.

"What about Raphael?" Gabriel suggested. "Think he ever knew the spell? If we pooled our power, we could resurrect him, too, but by the time he showed up…"

"It might be too late," Lucifer finished for him in agreement. "But I doubt he'd know. And the only other one involved was God. The spell is lost, Gabriel. Unless…" The archangel paused, a spark of an idea lighting itself in his mind. Slowly, he began to smile, then leaned back in his throne with satisfaction. "No. There was one other who might know something. Who wrote down all the spells we ever knew?"

Gabriel wrinkled his nose in distaste, shaking his head. "What, you mean the scribe? I dunno, Luci. It was kind of a one time deal, why would Dad have it written down?"

"You said it yourself. He must have known that if she was ever freed, it would all be for nothing. Unless we could put her away again. Of course," he went on with a dark frown, "it doesn't matter, since _someone_ destroyed the angel tablet, and we don't have a prophet to read it anyway."

"Maybe Metatron does remember it, though," Gabriel pointed out. "If we can find him…"

"We can't. He's warded himself." Although… Lucifer had never given this entire line of thought much attention in the beginning, as his plan had been a bit more conclusive of an ending for his aunt. Now that he _was_ thinking about it, all kinds of possibilities were opening up. He'd known Gabriel would be a good choice. Voice low and threatening, Lucifer said, "But Castiel knew where to find him before."

Without another word, Lucifer shifted his gaze inwards, striding into the mind prison where Castiel had managed to get himself back up as far as his knees. Somewhere out in the physical world, Gabriel seemed to be trying to call him back, but Lucifer strode straight up to Castiel. Gently, he slid a finger under the edge of the gag to urge it free of Castiel's mouth, gratified when the lowly angel flinched.

"Castiel," he purred, capturing his brother's chin and forcing his reluctant gaze up. "Let's chat."

Castiel swallowed. "Lucifer. What's happening out there?" He shifted in the chains, outspread arms tugging slightly in obvious unease at the archangel's touch. "Is… is she dead?"

"I want Metatron. You found him before. How? Where is he now?"

The angel stared at him, eyes squinting with confusion. "Metatron? I don't know."

Lucifer's hand on Castiel's chin tightened as he leaned in closer, his smile widening threateningly. His free hand raked through the angel's hair in what might have passed for tenderness if not for his bruising grip. "You're lying, little brother. Lying is a sin. Don't make me… punish you."

"I'm not. I don't know where he is. Lucifer… please, I don't know!"

The archangel shrugged, letting go and circling around behind his captive brother. "I gave you a chance to do this the easy way. It's like you _want_ me to hurt you." Raising one hand, he pointed at Castiel. His grace struck his brother's back like the lash of a whip; caught unawares, Castiel couldn't bite back the scream of pain, filled with so much agony that it was even audible over the crack like thunder.

"Where's Metatron?" Lucifer asked again, continuing to prowl a circle around the borders of the sigil Castiel was trapped in. The angel's head was bowed as he took in deep shuddering breaths, but he looked up at Lucifer with annoyingly defiant eyes.

"You think... you're the first to torture me... for that information?"

"Nope," Lucifer replied, pointing again. This time, his power caught Castiel in the face and along his side. The grace arced like a whip of lightning, opening another white-hot stripe on the angel's skin, and again he couldn't quite stifle the scream. "But I bet I'll be the last."

"I… don't… know!"

Lucifer shrugged and aimed for Castiel's back again, lashing the angel with a merciless stroke. They didn't have time to do this all day, but he almost wished they did. The angel cried out from the pain of the lash, but only said in desperation,

"You _know_ I don't know! You've looked into all my thoughts, you've- you've torn my mind apart. If that information was there, you would have found it-" He cut off with a louder cry as Lucifer's grace whipped into him again, shredding both his body and true form as the angel's back arched in torment.

"Maybe," the archangel agreed. "Or maybe you're burying it, hiding it away. You've built walls in here, I can tell. When there's time, I'll rip them all down, but for now… save us the trouble. Tell me where Metatron is, and I'll leave you alone."

Castiel was shuddering with pain, but his teeth were gritted and he glared stubbornly up at Lucifer. "How... how could I know?" he demanded. "I found him in Omaha, and I confronted him. He's surely moved on. I can't be expected to know where he would go from there. Why would I protect him from you?"

Lucifer frowned. Unfortunately, Castiel sounded like he was telling the truth, though that didn't explain why the archangel was sensing some seed of deception. Omaha… that wasn't helpful. Lucifer was considering laying into the angel a bit more just for good measure, when Gabriel's voice exploded into his mind.

_"-serious, Lucifer, get back out here!"_

Studying Castiel for a moment longer, Lucifer finally scowled and replaced the gag. He shifted back out to the physical world only to find Gabriel standing in his face with an irate expression.

"Really, bro?" Gabriel demanded. "How would Cas know anything? And if he did, he'd hand it right over! He wants this over with, too, don't you think? You don't have to hurt him!"

"What makes you think I was hurting him?" Lucifer pointed out idly.

"Because I _know_ you! And you know what, if it was any other angel you were possessing, you'd have just left them alone, wouldn't you? You're just mad because Cas helped beat you before!"

The older archangel didn't bother denying that. There was no angel he would rather have control of. But that wasn't the point at the moment. "Either way," he said, "we have no way of finding Metatron."

Gabriel still looked huffy; his concern for Castiel continued to annoy Lucifer. Thankfully, he didn't mention the lowly angel again, but instead suggested, "Yeah, we do. I told you we could use the Winchesters. They find people without any heavenly powers all the time, so let's just let them do the leg work."

"You think I'm going to just let Dean Winchester walk out of here?" Lucifer demanded. "I just got him, now you want me to let him go."

"There's two of 'em, remember? Ask Sam to do it. And how about we ix-nay the whole torture thing, huh? I'm telling you, they _want_ to get Amara outta here. Let's just talk to them. You know, work _with_ them. I bet they'd be delighted to track Metatron down."

Lucifer sighed. "That's not as much fun." Fine, though. Anyway… there would be plenty of time for fun later. Once this fight was over, Lucifer would have all the time with the Winchesters that he wanted.

* * *

 _"Cas!"_ Gabriel quickly called in his mind while they made their way to the dungeon. _"You alright in there?"_

 _"I'm fine,"_ he replied after a short pause, voice gravelly and pained. _"I've had worse."_

That wasn't really a comforting thought. _"Don't shut me out next time. You blocked the link whenever he started... you know."_

_"You didn't need to hear it. I'm fine, Gabriel. But… thank you."_

Gabriel continued to keep an even face, not showing his confusion even though he was trailing behind Lucifer, who was focused only on the task ahead. _"Thanks? For what?"_

_"…Caring if I'm alright or not. It- it's been a while since anyone did."_

The kid was breaking Gabriel's heart. He didn't respond for a second, not even sure what the hell he was supposed to say to that, before settling on, _"Well… you're my brother, kiddo. But I'm not the only one who cares. And speaking of, better brace yourself, 'cause you can't react, no matter what you hear."_

_"I won't."_

The despair returned to Castiel's voice, putting Gabriel on alert. He decided then and there that _if_ Lucifer got going on the Winchesters after all, he would shut down his connection to Cas. He hated to throw his brother back into an isolated silence. But making him stand by and listen to his friends' pain without being able to react, let alone help, was something Lucifer would do. And Gabriel, for all his flaws, wasn't Lucifer.

The Winchesters were crouching by the barred wall that separated them, talking quietly. Gabriel hung back in the shadows unseen as Lucifer strode forward. As soon as Sam and Dean saw him, they jumped to their feet.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, rushing to the front of his cage and grabbing the bars. "Cas, buddy, you gotta fight him!"

Lucifer laughed. From Gabriel's vantage point, he could see both the boys' faces fall as they heard that the Devil from their best friend's mouth. Lucifer leaned against Dean's cell, propped up on one arm over his head.

"Cas can't hear you."

"Bullshit," Dean snarled, jerking at the bars as though there was a prayer they would give. "He's in there somewhere, you son of a bitch, and we want him back. Cas! We're here, okay? We're not giving up, we'll find a way to save you!"

In the darkness, Gabriel's mouth twitched, though he hid his smile. Good. Castiel needed to hear this. In the other cell, Sam took up the call.

"We'll fix this, Cas! Don't give up yet. We know you're in there, and we're not gonna stop until we've got you back. Whatever it takes!"

Castiel was carefully keeping his emotions from revealing that he could hear him, and Gabriel was impressed, but Lucifer only laughed again. He leaned back away from the bars, spreading his arms.

"Get him back? Save him? He doesn't want to be saved. He _chose_ this. Sorry, boys. Castiel is gone."

"But guess who _is_ here?" Gabriel piped up now, finally pushing forward so they could see him. Pointedly, he added, "I know, I know… bet you weren't expecting to see _me_ alive again."

Sam's eyes opened wide with shock, and he actually took a step backwards as though dumbfounded. Gabriel approved, almost impressed with the acting ability.

"But that's… that's impossible," Sam stuttered. "You're _dead_. _He_ killed you!"

"Some kind of trick, huh Lucifer?" Dean snarled, appropriately mistrusting of the situation, as he would have been. "Well, it's not gonna work."

"Oh, it's no trick, boys," Gabriel went on, sauntering up to their cages. "It's really me. Yeah, long story. I'm not impossible to bring back. I'm just really hard." He paused, then winced. "That came out wrong."

"So now you're working with him?" Dean demanded, staying in character. He gestured towards a smug-looking Lucifer. "The same guy who killed you, the same guy you kept trying to make _us_ give in to? You do get that that's _Cas_ he's riding around in? But why would you care. You never cared about anything but yourself."

Though Gabriel knew the boys were only playing their roles—oh, what an irony—the words stabbed him right through the heart in a way even he hadn't expected. His expression darkened somewhat as he stepped up to Dean's cell bars and quietly retorted,

"You don't know anything about me. There are bigger things at stake here, boys. But you should know that. You're the idiots who set Amara free to begin with. Is it just me, or is this breaking the world thing becoming a really bad habit with you two?"

Dean glared, but didn't say anything in return. Gabriel made sure his face was pointed away from Lucifer's, before giving the human a quick wink. He felt Lucifer's glee at the conflict. They'd made their points, though, no sense in continuing this circus for the dark archangel's benefit.

Right on cue, Sam cleared his throat from the other cell to draw their attention, his glare fixed on Lucifer.

"Fine, you got us here," he snapped. "What do you want with us? Please tell me there's an actual point here somewhere?"

"Oh, yes," Lucifer assured him. "I must apologize for the horribly crude way you were brought here-"

Which was a load of bullshit, and Gabriel couldn't contain a soft snort.

"-but I've got a job for you to take care of."

The two stared at him, then quickly looked at Gabriel, then at each other. Gabriel could see the distrust, the sudden hesitancy, the returning edginess. The archangel couldn't send out-going prayers to them to reassure the two that everything was in hand, but he did catch Sam's eye behind Lucifer's back and give him a short nod.

Sam frowned, but Dean was already laughing coldly. "Work?" the older Winchester demanded. "For _you_? Is that some kind of joke?"

"Nope," Gabriel replied with a grin before Lucifer could answer. "But I did hear a good one. So three angels walk into a bar-"

"Amara needs to be locked away again," Lucifer cut him off, staring Dean down. "Right now, that's our only option. But first we need the spell, and you're going to get it for us."

The door to Sam's cage clicked and then swung open with a rusty grumble. Lucifer shifted his attention to the younger hunter, who gulped and took a step back instead of forward. Dean gave his own bars a shake, but they didn't budge. His face darkened, and Gabriel felt Castiel tense ever so slightly.

"Sam?" Dean snapped, looking between his brother and Lucifer. "What's going on, Lucifer? Let me out!"

"It's all cool," Gabriel assured the two, as at ease as he could possibly force his voice to be in an attempt to keep them—and therefore Cas—calm. "Total piece of cake. You should have no problem, Sam. We need to find Metatron. He wrote down all the spells and stuff, so we're hoping he remembers this one. Just find him. If he doesn't want to tell you-"

"Then you can pray to me," Lucifer finished with a smile. "And tell me where you are, and we'll come get you, and believe me," he added, chuckling in a way that sent shivers up Gabriel's spine. "He _will_ tell me."

Sam stared at the archangels, suspicion and stubbornness in those big puppy-dog eyes. "You want Metatron?" he growled, jaw tight. "Fine. We don't like him anyway. But Dean and I go together."

"Mm, no," Lucifer replied. "Dean's staying right here. Where I can keep an eye on him. Oh, and, uh, to make sure you do as you're told. I know you, Sam, I rode around inside you." The Devil's eyes gleamed with restrained malice. "You don't want to cooperate with me, never did, but for Dean's sake… you will. I'm sure you'll do the job, and do it _quickly_... before I get bored."

Sam finally took a step forward, hands clenched at his side at the thinly veiled threat. He smiled grimly, and snapped, "Cas, if you're in there… I'm sorry about this."

Lucifer frowned, but Gabriel's eyes shot to Dean, only now detecting the faint whiff of blood in the air. The archangel groaned as he saw the sigil painted onto the ground.

"Shoulda seen that coming," he remarked, before Dean's hand slammed into the middle of the sigil and blasted everything away.


	10. And Monsters Who Once Were Angels

Gabriel picked himself up rather painfully, casting a wary and interested eye around their surroundings. Osaka, Japan, if he was any judge. Fantastic. Who knew how long they'd been bouncing around the ether like pinballs, legs nearly ripped out at the joints from being bound together. The youngest archangel would have been pissed at the Winchesters if he wasn't slightly impressed that they'd gotten one over on him.

A furious growl from behind him had Gabriel turning to see his brother struggling up to his feet as well. Gabriel smirked. "Hey there, oni-san. Whoops, I mean, oniisan."

Leveling a glare at him that could have set the whole island on fire, Lucifer grabbed Gabriel's shoulder and took off at top speed with a flap of his ruffled wings. Predictably, though, only a couple of empty cells were there to meet them a few seconds later.

"Great. That's just great. Oh, by the way," the Devil snarled. "Talking with Winchesters? Great plan."

"Hah! Dude, they totally _ass-_ reamed us! I mean, I know I should be angry, but damn!"

"This isn't a game!" Lucifer shoved him out of the way hard enough that the younger archangel hit the iron bars, and then stormed into Dean's cell to examine the sigil in dried blood.

Gabriel couldn't help but laugh, though, shaking his head. "That's like, _twice_ they've pulled that trick on you!"

Shadows crept into the room, choking out the light of the torches—a product of Lucifer's growing, unquenchable rage. But Gabriel was too delighted with the humans knocking his brother's pride down a peg or two that he couldn't even care. After the smack Lucifer talked, the Trickster was thrilled at this rare opportunity to see him bested.

"Shut your mouth, Gabriel."

"You and Michael should have shirts made!" the archangel hooted. "They could say 'The Winchesters kicked my ass…again'!"

"I said… _shut up._ Do _not_ make me say it again."

"I mean, are you ever _not_ going to fall for that? So much for being all cunning and shit-"

"Gabriel!"

But the cry wasn't an angry shout from Lucifer. It was Cas, and his voice was laced with pain. Gabriel froze, staring at his brother in alarm. The angel was standing ramrod straight, arms slack at his sides. His chin was tilted up—Gabriel could almost see Lucifer standing behind him, blade at his throat.

Neither of them moved or spoke for a moment, until Castiel murmured, "He wants me to tell you... he doesn't think you're funny."

"Whoa. Luci," Gabriel said, all humor dropping from his tone now. "Let him go. Chill, bro. Come on."

Castiel twitched, a shuddering gasp ripping from his throat as Gabriel saw a trickle of blood appear at his neck. The archangel's hands clenched, face darkening.

"He says…" Cas went on, "he's tired of your… disrespect."

"I'm supposed to respect _this_?" Gabriel demanded, gesturing at the angel imprisoned in his own body. Then he held his hands up to show surrender. "Stop it, Lucifer, I'm done. Okay? You win."

Castiel's head tipped back farther, the angel blinking rapidly in an obvious attempt to hide his fear. "He says if he has to tell you one more time, I'll... I'll be the one to... suffer. He'll-" The angel cut off again, exhaling sharply as his eyes widened. "No, don't! Lucif-"

Gabriel could only watch in horror as his little brother screamed through lips pressed tightly closed, the sound muffled as though Lucifer had one hand over the angel's mouth. A jagged gash glowing brilliant blue-white with grace appeared on Cas's chest, then another across his collarbone. The angel wavered, then collapsed.

"No!" Gabriel shouted, leaping forward to catch his brother before he hit the floor. "Cas! Damn it, Lucifer, _stop_ this!" But Lucifer wasn't listening, while Cas kept up the muffled screaming. The archangel desperately started to extend a healing touch, but stopped when he realized with horror that it would do no good. The wounds were being inflicted from inside Cas's head; there was literally nothing Gabriel could do but hold onto his imprisoned brother and watch him be tortured.

Another bloody, glowing wound appeared, this time on Castiel's cheek, and the angel's body writhed in a spasm of pain. Shit, this was Gabriel's fault; if only he had kept his mouth shut, resisted the temptation to poke his vengeful brother. For a second, Castiel's eyes burned into Gabriel's, and the agony they held would haunt the sickened archangel forever. Then, the light disappeared as Cas's consciousness was yanked back down into the abyss of whatever prison Lucifer was keeping him inside of.

Instead of emerging, though, Lucifer remained inside, as the vessel fell completely slack.

 _"Cas?"_ Gabriel tentatively asked again. _"What's happening, buddy, talk to me! Keep the line open."_

_"_ _Gabriel…"_

_"_ _I'm here, kiddo."_

There was a pause, then a scream deep inside Cas's mind. Gabriel gave the body in his arms a shake with a useless shout of frustration. "Damn it, Lucifer!" _"What's going on, Castiel?"_ Still no answer, and Gabriel suddenly realized that he was feeling a wave of shame wafting from his brother's mind. Oh, hell no. He wasn't about to let his little brother go on thinking he should be ashamed of himself just for getting beaten up by some bully a million times stronger than him.

 _"_ _Cas, listen to me,"_ he urged. _"Lucifer's a DICK, and he doesn't know you at all. Whatever he's telling you, it's nothing but a load of bull. Look… you let him in. You sacrificed everything to fight for what you love, and that's something special, kiddo. Hell, when it was down to the wire, I chose to run off instead of fight for what mattered. So don't for one second think you're weak now, just because THE DEVIL has a hold on you—and only because you gave him one. So you're not that weak, you're just that selfless."_

_"_ _I…"_

_"_ _Don't shut me out, Castiel. I'm not gonna think any less of you just from hearing what's going on. You got nothing to be ashamed of, kiddo, but I can't help if I don't know what he's doing. You're my brother. Let me help."_

There was another long pause, then finally, like a badly tuned radio, Gabriel was able to hear the static filled audio of what his brother was enduring.

_"_ _-make it clear to you, Castiel… just because I need your power right now doesn't mean I need you in one piece."_

_"Please..._ _I had… nothing to do with it..."_

A harsh grunt, the sound of a body being kicked, and a muffled groan. Gabriel's hands tightened around his little brother.

_"_ _And those Winchesters, have I got plans for them."_

_"_ _They can help fight. Please, just leave them alone."_

_"_ _Still so loyal, Castiel?" More brutal kicks, accenting every sentence and followed by choked grunts of pain. "Even after everything, you still cling to these humans who would turn on you in a heartbeat. You think they care about you? YOU? A broken, mangled excuse for an angel, who on his BEST day was little more than a tool. When was the last time you ever did anything for them?"_

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. _"Don't listen to him, Cas. You saved Sam. You risked getting on LUCIFER'S shit list to save him. And before that, you jumped into Lucifer's Cage to protect him, you held the Devil off to give Deano and Gigantor a chance. And you ain't some tool, either. You proved that a long time ago. Those guys—can't believe I'm about to say this—they really do care about you, dumbasses though they are."_

Castiel didn't say anything, only coughed-a wet, gurgling sound that sounded horrifically thick with blood. Still, Gabriel could almost feel the younger angel's defiant glare, amazingly still able to fight. He heard Lucifer chuckle, tone shifting from fury to a much more lethal calm. Silky and terrifying, he murmured,

_"_ _Oh, little brother. Keep up that spunky attitude. You'll see soon enough. As soon as Amara is dead, they'll turn on you. But they'll lose. And then…"_

He chuckled again, then Gabriel heard Castiel shift with a soft, shuddering moan. In his mind's eye, he imagined Lucifer was probably doing that creepy face-stroking thing that he did.

 _"_ _Then,"_ Lucifer went on, _"I won't even kill them. And at first, they might think you saved them again, but after…"_

_"_ _After… what?"_

_"_ _After the things I'm going to do to them, using YOUR vessel, they'll never be able to look at you again. But here. Let me show you."_

_"…_ _Dean. Dean, run. No! LUCIFER, NO! Please, don't do this- mmph!"_

Gabriel's eyes narrowed with murderous fury, watching as Lucifer returned to the surface with a smug look. The younger archangel dropped him on the floor with a shove and jumped to his feet.

"You dick," he snarled, backing away as Castiel shut him out of his mind once again. Whatever Lucifer was making him see, it was clearly too horrific for the warrior angel to share. Gabriel had some pretty good guesses what it would entail. "You hate him that much, you'd damage your own body?"

Lucifer shrugged, also standing up. There was an icy malevolence burning in his eyes. "Well, you always were a… visual learner."

Only the fact that Gabriel had no prayer of winning a fight against Lucifer at the moment kept him from leaping at his older brother. He got the message, loud and clear.

"He hasn't tried to escape," Gabriel seethed. "He doesn't even _want_ to escape! All your shit, and he just takes it, because he _wants_ to fight Amara. He's keeping that body together so that you can fight! And all you can do is torture the kid? If you can't appreciate the help, you could at least just leave him alone!"

The older archangel's eyes glinted slightly as they narrowed on Gabriel, but then he turned away. "The Hellhound will bring the Winchesters back again."

"You know, you used to be better than this."

Lucifer paused. He turned halfway back, asking over his shoulder in a chillingly casual voice, "You _are_ on my team. Right, Gabriel?"

The Trickster sighed, stepping around so that he was facing Lucifer head on. He burned with intensity, searching the archangel's face for any sign of Cas. "You're my brother," he said, with both his physical voice and his true one, speaking deep into Cas's mind. "I'm with you."

_I'm with you._

* * *

"Damn it, I want my Baby."

Dean glared out the dirty windshield and pushed the accelerator a bit harder, for all the good that did in this stupid junker they'd had to steal. Of course Sam couldn't understand the bond between man and car, and shot him an unsympathetic bitch-face from the passenger seat.

"Just be glad we're alive and out of there."

Well, excuse _him_ if he wasn't feeling particularly lucky or grateful or whatever the hell… They still didn't have Cas back.

On the other hand, it'd been a break that the dungeons were relatively unguarded, with all the demons on the search for Amara and these "Hand of God" things. Plus, now they knew they'd been on the right track and Metatron _was_ a key component here. And they had his forwarding address. So, things could have been worse, but Dean still couldn't feel all that chipper.

"How far away are we?" he asked, grimly staring down the road in the hopes of some signs to orient them to where exactly they had been taken.

"Not far," Sam replied as he checked his phone's nav app, thankfully finding service again. "Couple hours. Dean, look, we gotta talk about the consequences if we do this."

"If?" Dean repeated. He shot his brother another stony glare. "This is how we get rid of Amara and free Cas. There's no 'if', it's done."

"Right, obviously. But once we lock Amara back up, you know what that means, right?"

Dean's eyebrows pinched closer together as his scowl darkened on the road ahead. Yeah. He knew what it meant. He'd been trying not to think about it, but after carrying the Mark as long as he had, it was hard to keep the thoughts at bay.

"Neither of us can take the Mark," Sam went on, leaning towards Dean with an insistent sort of urgency. "Or we'll end up right back where we started. We'll be just as screwed because we'll make the _exact_ same choices even if we say we won't."

"I _know,_ Sam!" Dean took a breath, then sighed, relenting. His harsh voice softened somewhat. "I know. But first things first. We gotta get the spell, and that's assuming Metatron even knows it. And then we'll just… figure things out from there. Damn it, Sammy, I don't care what it takes, we have to fix this."

Sam fell silent, but Dean knew his brother agreed. He knew Sam felt responsible for Cas's predicament. Dean didn't blame him for it—not by a long shot—but he also knew there was nothing they _wouldn't_ do to get Cas out, now. And though he knew Sam was right about him not taking the Mark again… and even though he'd agreed… Dean already knew, deep, deep down, that if it came down to it, he would take it on if it meant they could yank Lucifer out and stuff him back in his box.

Not that he planned on sharing that gloomy thought with Sam, and they spent the rest of the ride in silence, flying down the road towards Omaha, and hopefully Metatron, as fast as they could. Now that they had something specific to find, Dean was all the more determined to track the slimy bastard down and extract the answers they needed by any means necessary.

Their luck held; Metatron was right where had had said he would be.

Dean would have found the entire situation more hilariously pathetic, had so much not been hanging in the balance. He and Sam sat in the car, watching in open-mouthed disbelief, as a heavily cloaked Metatron hurried to the door of the crap-hole he was staying in. The way the ex-angel was furtively looking this way and that really only called _more_ attention to himself, as did the thick coat and scarf to hide his face… in the sweltering July heat.

"Unbelievable," Dean grumbled as they waited for the angel to slip inside before stepping out themselves. " _This_ is the guy who made so much trouble for us?"

Sam shrugged, eyes narrowing. "Guess it's not easy going from angel to…"

The elder Winchester glanced at his brother as Sam trailed off. Neither of them wanted to finish the thought, because this was what Cas had gone through, too. On his own. Had that not been the case, perhaps none of this would have even happened.

Setting his face in grim determination, Dean strode forward and kicked Metatron's door in with one tremendous thud. No need for angel blades; he carried only a gun, which he pointed at the startled ex-angel.

"What- YOU? But… how did you find me?" Metatron demanded, eyes opening wide in terror as he stumbled back and tripped over the coffee table. He scrambled backwards, trying to hide behind the rickety couch, gaze flicking to the door only to find it blocked by the enormous and furious presence of Sam Winchester.

"Little tip?" Dean snarled, aiming the gun so that Metatron had no choice but to swallow hard and hold still. "Next time you wanna go into hiding, don't leave a forwarding address. Idiot."

"What do you want?" Metatron whined with a ridiculously transparent attempt to look tough and unafraid. "I didn't _do_ anything. Your buddy ASS-tiel already got his revenge. Why can't you leave me alone?"

"Believe me, the last thing in the world I wanna do to you is leave you alone," snapped Dean. He stalked towards the couch that Metatron was hiding behind, face full of shadow, while Sam shifted around the other direction to cut off Metatron's retreat.

The ex-angel swallowed again, then drew himself up with a blustery glower. "Oh yeah? Well if you're gonna kill me, make it quick or get out of my way. I've got stuff to do."

"Really?" Sam snorted. "Like what?"

"Like… like… just stuff, okay?"

The tough façade faltered when Dean grabbed Metatron's jacket and shoved the angel back into the wall, making no attempt to be gentle. Metatron winced, then recovered with a half-hearted attempt to pull free.

"Guess losing the Mark didn't fix that innate need for violence, huh?"

"So you know about that," Dean said casually, jamming the gun up under Metatron's chin and smiling coldly when the angel's throat bobbed in anxiety. "Good. 'Cause that's what we're here to talk about."

"I don't know anything."

Dean glanced over at Sam, who smirked back at him. Yeah, Metatron had said that just a little too quickly. Pushing the gun in harder, Dean leaned in and snapped,

"Really? You don't know anything about what, exactly?"

Gulping, Metatron shifted his anxious gaze from Dean to Sam, then back. Sam pulled out his favorite knife, twisting it this way and that as he casually watched the light dance off the sharpened blade.

"See," Sam said, "we already know you told Cas about the Darkness."

"She was before my time!"

"But God told you things," Dean pointed out. "You knew she had to be sacrificed. How did they do it? It was some kind of spell, right? You're telling me you never wrote it down?"

"You've seen all the Tablets. Did your prophet ever say anything about it? Didn't think so."

Jaw tightening, Dean slammed Metatron back into the wall, hard enough that there was an audible crack of his head and a splintering of cheap plaster. Metatron winced and raised his hands as though to ward the furious hunter off, as Dean got right in his face and growled,

"Word to the wise, you sad sack: don't ever mention him again if you like all your body parts attached."

"Alright!" Metatron yelped, eyes again darting back and forth between the two hunters. "Look, it was never written down. I didn't even figure out what the spell was _for_ until recently. God never said what it did, he just said someday it might be important, nothing else! But it's the only thing he _could_ have meant. Honestly I- I thought he was drunk so I didn't bother putting it down anywhere, 'cause it was just a bunch of nonsense. But he said it just a few days after letting his family connections slip, so it's gotta be the spell they used to lock her up. Explains why he said to choose carefully, because it brought some 'great curse' or something. Must have meant the Mark."

Dean traded a look with Sam. Great curse or not, they had to try.

"You remember how it went?" he demanded.

Metatron shrugged, fearful expression shifting into a shrewd gleam. "Maybe," he hedged, corner of his mouth twitching. "What's in it for me?"

Dean cocked the gun, making Metatron yelp. "You get to live."

"Oh, come on!" the ex-angel whined. "A little brutish, don't you think? Why shouldn't I get my cut?"

"Because if you _don't_ help us," Sam snapped, "Amara's going to kill you anyway. You. Us. The world. Heaven. _Everything_. Even God."

Metatron eyed the two sourly, lips puckering up in a pout. Finally, he shrugged. "Fine. But after this, you leave me alone. And that means Ass-tiel, too, no sending your angel tool out to do your dirty work."

Dean's heart twisted at the thought of Cas, how he probably still thought of himself as a tool, too. If they could just get him back… never, ever again. No, _when_ they got him back. Nodding his agreement, the hunter let go of Metatron.

"Got something to write it on?"

"I'm the scribe of _God_ ," Metatron snapped, skewering him with a loathing glare. "Of course I have something to write on."

Geez, touchy. While the scribe of _God_ jerked out a notepad and pencil from an inner pocket, Dean glanced over at Sam. The younger Winchester gave him a meaningful look, then cleared his throat.

"As long as you're writing spells down," he started. Metatron dropped the pencil and glowered.

"What."

"There's one more we're gonna need."

Metatron crossed his arms and shook his head. "Do I look like the Encyclopedia Angelica? You think it's my job to just whip out a spell or some information whenever you're in over your heads?"

"Okay. You know what?" Dean had had it. Stowing the gun back in his waistband, the hunter grabbed hold of Metatron's jacket with both fists, hauling him in. Steely, unforgiving eyes burned into the angel's as he ground out in a lethal growl, "Mark or no Mark, I _will_ rip you limb from limb if you don't give me what I need. Lucifer has _Cas_. And I don't give a _damn_ what I have to do to you to get him back. So…"

Shoving Metatron around the dilapidated couch and pushing him down onto the cushion, Dean waited until the terrified angel had caught his eye again before finishing,

"…like I said. There's one more spell we're gonna need."


	11. It's a Slow But Steady Fall

Sam looked over the sheets of paper for the hundredth time, trying to commit the spells to memory. The second one hadn't been too hard, and the hunter had already memorized the Latin phrases and destroyed the evidence.

The spell for Amara, however, was next to impossible; it was in Enochian. Sam counted his lucky stars that the language was almost entirely phonetic. He had no idea what it translated to, but fortunately knowing the meaning of a spell wasn't a necessary component. The hunter was just glad they had gotten the spells at all, and hadn't even needed to threaten Metatron with Lucifer. Sam wondered if the Devil would track Metatron down himself. After what the Scribe had done to Cas, Sam wasn't particularly worried about it.

Though it was once again nearly four in the morning, Sam couldn't drift off to sleep just yet. What if something happened and they lost these spells? He'd already texted himself the words, snapped off a quick picture to store in his phone, _and_ emailed a copy to an external email, just in case.

Still, what if everything went wrong—which things tended to do, as they were Winchesters—and the fate of the world, and Cas, depended on him knowing these two spells? Sam couldn't let Cas down, especially if Gabriel had gotten the message to the angel that they were doing everything they could to help him.

He'd sleep in an hour or so.

But more and more, Sam's eyelids were starting to droop, fatigue forcing him nearer and nearer to the blissful precipice of sleep. Dean was busy cleaning his guns, silently ignoring the world, but the slight clinking of metal and the swish of his rag was nearly hypnotic. Sam set the papers down with a sigh, folding his arms and resting his head on them for a moment. He just needed a quick, thirty-second break, then he'd try to see how much of this spell he had learned.

Ten seconds later, Sam was out like a light.

" _Finally_ , don't you morons ever sleep?"

Sam nearly jolted awake again from the shock, but he managed to recover. Gabriel stood before him, arms crossed, less than pleased. Sam glanced around.

"I'm dreaming."

"And that's why they call you the smart one. I've been waiting for one of you two assholes to drift off so I could have a word." The archangel gave him an icicle smile. "Would have preferred to kick _both_ your asses at the same time, but I guess you'll do."

In spite of himself, Sam took a small step back and instinctively reached for a weapon that he didn't seem to have in his dream. "Look," he said. "I'm sorry you got banished along with Lucifer, but if you think I was going to sit there and let him keep Dean as a hostage-"

"Me? What, you think I've never been on the receiving end of that before?" Gabriel snapped, drawing himself up. "I'm talking about _Cas_! Lucifer already _has_ a hostage, remember? You should have just let him keep Dean, too! I hope you're real proud of yourself, Sam, 'cause you got your beloved big brother back, and _I_ got to watch Lucifer punish Castiel because of it."

" _What_?" Sam's fists clenched tightly. "Cas had nothing to do with us escaping! What did he do? Gabriel, what did Lucifer _do_ to him?"

Gabriel laughed, the scorn so ripe it was nearly tangible. "You think Lucifer gives a _shit_ whether Cas had anything to do with it? You pissed him off by escaping and he had a ready target who couldn't fight back. And sure, maybe I didn't help the situation, but none of it would have happened if you'd just pulled your heads outta your asses and worked _with_ us!"

Pointing an accusing hand at the archangel, Sam set his face in a stubborn glare and snapped, "You're just going to go along with him, huh? Doesn't even _matter_ that he's using Cas, you'll just fall into line behind him-"

He'd gone too far. Gabriel was on him in a second, wrathful and cold, as his furious fists clenched in Sam's jacket and shoved the Winchester down to his knees. One hand latched around the hunter's throat, closing tightly enough that Sam started to see stars.

"I'm not falling in line with anything," the archangel hissed. "I'm trying to fix what _you_ screwed up. After everything you've done, you don't get to vote on how I do that."

Sam choked, clutching at Gabriel's arms. His vision started to go dark, before the archangel finally released him with a growl. Coughing and heaving for air, Sam slumped over for a second, then scrambled to get up again before Gabriel could decide he wasn't done attacking.

"We didn't… mean for… Cas to get hurt," he managed to snap out between coughs.

"Yeah, you never _mean_ for him to get hurt. Bang up job, Samsquatch. I don't have time for this, though," he grumbled, looking around warily. "Lucifer's going to get suspicious soon. Look, we _need_ to find Metatron-"

"Save it," Sam said. "We already did. We got the spell."

Gabriel's gaze flew back to Sam, eyes narrowing with intensity. "He remembered it?"

"Yeah. It's in Enochian, but I should be able to manage. So look, first things first, we need to get Lucifer out of Cas. Will that free you, if you're bound to Lucifer?"

Instead of looking excited, though, the archangel frowned. "Get Lucifer out?"

"…I thought you were on board with this." Sam took a step back, eyeing Gabriel with dark suspicion. Dean hadn't wanted to trust the Trickster to begin with, and Sam suddenly wondered if his brother hadn't been right. But then why was Lucifer keeping Gabriel on such a short leash? "So, what, you're pissed off at us for getting Cas in trouble, but now suddenly you don't want to rescue him after all? Whose side are you on, Gabriel?"

"Mine," he replied with a flippant shrug. "Which right now means yours, too. And yeah, by all means, rescue Castiel. But you're gonna have to wait until Amara's been taken care of."

"Send Cas into battle with Lucifer wearing him?" Sam's fists curled, glare deepening. "No! No way!"

"Look, hotshot, I don't particularly like it, either! Wow, you really don't get how this works, do you? Did you miss the part where it took all four of us archangels, _and_ Dad, to get rid of her? It's already gonna take a miracle to pull this off, with nothing but me and Lucifer, a low-powered angel, and two humans with a track record of making bigger problems. Like it or not, we _need_ Lucifer, or there won't be anything to save Cas _for_."

"Then we'll find another vessel!" Sam shouted. "If that's what it takes-"

"You'll what? Sucker some other poor soul into it?" Gabriel demanded with crossed arms. "Volunteer yourself up as Lucifer's condom?" He shook his head. "Sorry, Sammy. Look, I've already thought about the options. I hate to say it, but Castiel does make the most sense. He can help keep Lucifer in one piece, and we won't have to slaughter our entire demon army for him to drink. He's the strongest vessel there is, and we can't afford to take chances with this."

Sam looked away, jaw clenched in helpless fury. Though he was typically considered the rational, logic-driven Winchester, he didn't _want_ to be logical about this. Not when it came to Cas. That was like asking him to sacrifice Dean because it was "logical".

"Besides," Gabriel piped up. "You wouldn't _actually_ switch places with Cas, if it came down to it."

The hunter didn't even think about what he was doing, didn't care that Gabriel could squash him like a bug. He lunged forward, grabbing the archangel's lapels and snarling, "You bet your _ass_ I would. If I'd had _any_ idea it would be me or him, I wouldn't have even _tried_ to hold Lucifer off!"

Though he half expected Gabriel to push him off, the Trickster surprised him with a satisfied smirk. "Uh-huh. Do me a favor: say that again, a little louder."

"You deaf? I said, I would have said yes if I'd known _this_ was the alternative! I _never_ would have put Cas through this, never! And I'm gonna do _anything_ it takes to get him back!"

Gabriel's grin broadened. "You hear that, Cas?" he asked, with a wink at Sam. "Guess they haven't given up on you after all, huh? That's from the horse's mouth."

Sam's eyes widened, his grip on the archangel tightening. He swallowed, then managed to stammer, "Cas? Can… can he hear me?"

"Yep. He's listening in, bucko," Gabriel assured him, tapping his temple. "Thanks to yours truly. And he says under no circumstances are you to offer yourself to Lucifer. He can handle it until we take care of Amara."

"Cas…" Sam had to swallow again, eyes burning with moisture threatening to spill over. "I'm so sorry. I- I didn't think Lucifer would punish _you_ for me and Dean escaping. But look, we've got a way to-"

"Whoops, gotta go," Gabriel cut him off, pulling away from the hunter. "We need you boys to come back, Sam. By the way… you've got about twenty seconds."

"Wait, what?"

But with a snap of his fingers, Gabriel was gone. Sam jolted awake at the table, just in time to hear a Hellhound start to howl.

* * *

"Sammy!" Dean shouted, already on his feet. Damn it, he'd hoped the Goofer dust they'd sprinkled around the hotel doors and windows would have kept any Hellhounds off their scent. By the sound of things, that had failed miserably.

In a flurry of long limbs, Sam scrambled to his brother's side. Dean grimly handed him the extra angel blade. With any luck, Lucifer had given orders to take them alive, but the hunter knew better than to think that was necessarily a blessing. That howl had been close enough that he knew there was no way they would make it to the junker car, which would offer no protection anyway. Their only hope was to stand and fight.

"Dean," Sam said, voice low and hurried. "Listen. I just talked to Gabriel."

"You what?"

"I was dreaming. Gabriel says we have to get rid of Amara, _then_ spring Cas."

"Uh, no." Dean's grip on his own blade tightened. "We spring Cas, then get rid of Amara."

Sam shook his head, jumping when something heavy and evil slammed into the hotel door, rattling the walls. "I think he might be right, Dean. Gabriel sounded pretty sure that he wasn't strong enough to hold her off himself, and I don't think he was lying."

"What, you saying we should surrender?" Dean demanded. Like hell was _that_ gonna happen. "We just got away!"

"Yeah, and apparently Cas paid for it."

Son of a bitch. Dean zeroed his glare back in on the door, breathing heavily through gritted teeth in an attempt to stay calm. As soon as he got the chance, he was going to rip Lucifer to pieces. The room rattled again as the Hellhound slammed itself into the door, hard enough that the hunter heard a distinct splintering of wood. Damn it, they were losing control of the entire situation!

"Lucifer!" a voice suddenly shouted from outside, presumably the demon tracker. "Lucifer, they're here! I found them!"

Dean and Sam traded a horrified look, then both of them spun, diving for the open duffel where the last remnants of their holy oil hid. Halfway to the bed, they nearly collided with Lucifer and Gabriel.

"Going somewhere?" Lucifer asked, arms crossed.

The expression on his face froze Dean's very blood, but the hunter didn't have it in him to give up without a fight. Together, he and Sam whipped back around for the door again, only for a flutter of wings to herald Gabriel moving to block them.

"Guys," the younger archangel drawled, eyes fixed on Sam with masked pointedness. "Come on, now. Let's be reasonable about this."

The Hellhound banged on the door again. A mighty wind kicked up, blowing the Goofer dust aside and allowing both the beast and the demon to burst inside. Dean felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as he heard the invisible monster's rumbling growl from only inches away. The older Winchester considered lunging to attack, but Gabriel must have anticipated the move. The archangel swept an arm out, throwing both humans into the wall of the motel room and pinning them there.

"And you wonder why we don't trust you," Dean muttered, struggling to raise his sword arm only to have it thrust back down again.

"Hey, I already tried the thing with helping you two yahoos out…. It got me killed, remember?"

With a predatory chuckle, Lucifer said, "Gabriel has thought it over and decided he's going to do as I say from now on. Right, Gabriel? Get their blades."

Dean thought he saw a flicker of fury on Gabriel's face, but it passed too quickly for him to be sure. "You bet," the Trickster answered, which surprised Dean. He hadn't expected _Gabriel_ to dance to anyone else's drum, let alone Lucifer's. Dean grunted with the exertion of trying to fight as the archangel strode forward and grabbed the blade out of Dean's hand before collecting Sam's as well. "Be grateful, Deano. I'm better than the alternative."

While that was almost certainly true, Dean glared at the archangel anyway. Gabriel talked a good game about wanting to help Cas, but he'd also apparently been hell-bent on convincing Sam not to fight. Had that only been to make them easier to catch, a favor to Lucifer? Dean strained to free himself from the wall, but Gabriel shot him a warning look and shook his head.

 _Don't fight_ , the archangel mouthed, eyes flicking towards Lucifer. Dean and Sam looked to the Devil as well, watching as he sauntered over to the table Sam had been working at and picked up Metatron's notes.

"So. You found the little weasel after all. I'm almost disappointed… I was hoping to have a crack at him." Lucifer frowned as he read the spell. "Though, maybe we should pick him up anyways, to make sure this is right. This is gibberish."

"My lord, what about these two?" the demon asked, advancing on the pair with the obvious hope to be given the green light to take them out. Dean redoubled his efforts to escape, while Lucifer eyed the humans thoughtfully.

"Now that we've got this…" he murmured. The Devil slithered forward, coming to a stop in front of the pinned hunters. "I was willing to play nice once. You didn't seem interested in my hospitality, boys. And I gotta say…" He clicked his tongue, mock regret playing across his face. "I'm not feeling all that inclined to give you a second chance."

Gabriel's face betrayed nothing, but from the corner of Dean's eye, he could see the younger archangel watching Lucifer carefully. He made no move, though, and Dean couldn't count on any help from him.

"You need us," he pointed out, breathless from the pressure that trapped him against the wall. "You said yourself, I have a connection with Amara-"

"Doesn't mean I need you in one piece," Lucifer snapped, leaning up into Dean's face. The avid hatred in _Cas's_ blue eyes nearly destroyed the hunter, worse than the threat itself. Though he knew it was the Devil, to be looked at like that by his best friend's face was more than he could stand. Even worse, that hate-laden glare shifted to Sam next, making the younger hunter freeze in his struggles beside Dean.

"And you…" Lucifer murmured, raising a hand to rest on top of Sam's head, as though about to smite him. "You, I don't need at all. Not anymore."

No! Dean felt his heart seize, knowing there was absolutely no way Sammy was going to escape this one. It took a lot to rattle the tough hunter, but he was panicking now. Cas wouldn't be able to save them this time… He began to squirm harder than ever, pleading silently.

_"Gabriel! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry we banished you, but you gotta save my brother! Please, don't let him kill Sam!"_

Suddenly, the force holding him to the wall disappeared. Both Dean and Sam tumbled to the floor at the archangels' feet, simultaneously putting some distance between Sam and Lucifer. Gabriel was smirking when Dean caught his eye, but the Trickster tipped him a swift wink, before drawling,

"So it might be in your best interests to go ahead and surrender, huh, boys?"

Dean kept his expression stony, though he felt a rush of relief. Being caught was better than being killed; at least they would have a chance to escape again. He was silent, while beside him, Sam tightened his jaw and looked the other way.

"No, seriously," Gabriel pressed, grin widening. "Let's hear it. An official surrender. Are you going to behave and play your roles in this plan willingly, or… not?"

Oh, how he would have loved to throttle the smarmy archangel. Dean's glower deepened, and he clamped his mouth shut to show that he was _not_ going to give Lucifer any such satisfaction with an answer to that question. Gabriel's expression faltered for only a fraction of a second, the nod he tipped Dean so small that the hunter almost missed it.

He got it, though. Appease Lucifer's ego by having the Winchesters agree to surrender and cooperate, and maybe they would get out of this with minimal damage. Had it been only his own neck on the line, Dean would have gone right on refusing. Another sideways glance at Sam, though—Sam, with the Devil still standing over him in preparation to strike—made Dean swallow hard and look away.

He couldn't risk his brother. And if Lucifer was taking out his anger with them on _Cas_ , he couldn't risk provoking the Devil, either.

"Fine," he ground out. "We… surrender. Happy?"

"We win?" Gabriel prodded.

Sam exhaled sharply, sounding equally displeased, but he replied with an air of reluctance, "You win."

"So… tell me you're going to behave. We want to hear the words."

Dean shot the archangel a furious glower. This was taking it awfully far, wasn't it? The Devil had what he wanted, and this whole act of obedience was pushing the limit of what Dean would tolerate. Especially when Gabriel seemed to be almost daring him to fight. But playing along was the only way to protect Sam and Cas.

So, through gritted teeth, Dean seethed, "I'll… _behave_."

"Great!" Gabriel exclaimed, turning to Lucifer with delight. "See, bro? Nothing to it. They're all yours."

"Good."

Yeah, Dean definitely heard a touch of disappointment in there. While the hunter and Lucifer glowered at each other, Gabriel reached out and took both the brothers by the arms.

"Don't worry," the Trickster advised, the cheer in his voice so out of place with their situation. "Luci and I have a plan. It'll all be over before you know it."

This wasn't the most comforting of sentiments, but with no alternative, Dean closed his eyes as the motel room spun and then disappeared.


	12. Some to Darkness, Some to Earth

Gabriel picked up one weapon after another, giving each a critical eye before tossing it into a pile with a careless clang. Most of this stuff would be about as useful as a flyswatter against Amara. How sad that the archangel almost _missed_ their many campaigns against the Leviathans. At least those guys had weak spots that they could strike at.

Not to mention _mortality_. That was always a bonus.

 _"_ _I don't like this, Gabriel,"_ Cas's true voice murmured in his mind.

 _"_ _I know you don't, kiddo,"_ the archangel mentally replied, picking up another artifact that the demons had brought in since the first attempt to kill the Darkness. _"Just… hang in there, you know?"_

_"_ _I said yes to Lucifer so that Dean and Sam wouldn't have to be anywhere close to this. Now they're as much Lucifer's prisoners as I am. I didn't want this."_

Yeah, well, Gabriel hadn't wanted a lot of things. Not that he planned on telling Castiel that the Winchesters really weren't his priority at the moment—and he _certainly_ wasn't going to share the next part of the plan with the young angel just yet—but he couldn't waste too much attention on them. If they didn't get Amara back in her box, none of the rest of it would matter, anyway.

He spared a glance towards the far corner of Lucifer's commandeered throne room, where the boys were seated against two stone columns. Their hands were pulled behind the pillars and tightly bound, theoretically to keep them from drawing any more sigils, and both were sporting matching glares at their demon guards.

Yeah, they would be fine. Even Lucifer knew there were bigger fish to fry at the moment, or else he probably would have just exsanguinated the pair of them to preempt the possibility of a blood sigil at all. The older archangel was getting increasingly out of control, Gabriel thought with a touch of apprehension. He always had been mercurial. In the old days, that had made him tiresome at times. Now, it just made the Devil unpredictable and twice as dangerous.

"Not long now, brother."

Gabriel glanced up at Lucifer's words. His brother's face was lit with the glow of anticipation, hands caressing his long, gleaming sword with the familiarity of a seasoned warrior. Gabriel shook his head. There was that ego again. Clearly, Lucifer was already counting on winning.

"Yeah. Big day… woo-hoo."

"Can you feel it?" Lucifer asked, eyes flicking up to him and burning like they had always done before battle, back in the days of the earliest monsters. "You and me, Gabriel. We'll end this today."

"Sure hope so," Gabriel agreed. He didn't point out that Lucifer had said basically the same thing before Amara had kicked their asses the first time. He frowned as his attention returned to the pile of weapons, spotting a glimmer of silver amid the brass. Reaching in, the archangel pulled out an old lantern. "Whoa, where did you unearth _this_ relic?" he snorted. "Isn't this the Lantern they used to blind Saul on the road to Damascus?"

Lucifer set his sword down, sauntering forward to examine the ancient thing. "I wouldn't know. I was imprisoned by then. Probably, though. It sucks in all the light from a person's world, leaves them blind."

"Y'know, this actually might be helpful," Gabriel pointed out as he held the Lantern aloft. "How many people did we blind over the years? All the light that's been sucked into this baby, I bet it would really do a number on the Darkness if we opened it now and let all that light back out."

Lucifer shrugged, gesturing that Gabriel should keep the thing to give it a try. The Trickster grinned, though he couldn't bring himself to feel all that light-hearted. They were entering the battle much better prepared this time, enough that Gabriel felt they had a good chance of actually winning, but that only begged the question of what was going to happen _after_.

"I'm glad I chose you, Gabriel."

It was such an unprompted thing to say that the younger archangel could only stare at his brother. Ordinarily, he would have jumped all over that as being so sentimental and silly, and teased Lucifer mercilessly for having said it. At the moment, though, the words were almost a torment, dangled in front of Gabriel to make him believe that the big brother he loved actually did feel something, when they both knew the truth:

Lucifer was incapable of such sentiment anymore.

"Me too," he managed to say with a shrug and a half-hearted smile, throat closing up.

_"_ _Gabriel. Something's wrong…"_

The archangel brushed off Cas's worry as Lucifer went on,

"I know we've had our ups and downs, but you're the only one I've really felt like I could count on. Just like I'm the only one who ever really _understood_ you."

 _"_ _Chill, Cas."_ Gabriel smiled a bit wider, nodding his agreement, but without letting his guard down. _"Is he messing with you?"_

_"_ _No, but… I don't know. I'm just…"_

He seemed unsure of how to finish, but Gabriel detected a hint of fear in his brother's thoughts. It was no wonder Castiel had fallen, he thought with a mental snort. He'd never met an angel who was so full of emotions, of every varying degree. He could tell that Cas was scared of Lucifer, but proud enough that he was trying not to show it, while also worrying about Sam and Dean—not to mention the whole world. On top of that, he seemed to be ashamed that he wasn't better able to protect the humans, anxious that they might also scorn his lack of power, exhausted from the trial of continuously healing his own captor, and generally worried that his best effort would once again not be good enough.

It was giving Gabriel a headache just to think about. Geez, no wonder Michael had banned feelings. Talk about making everything more complicated.

But maybe he could at least _try_ to ease some of that burden on Cas, though the archangel had no idea what he was supposed to say.

_"_ _Cas. Can't believe I'm gonna get all sappy here, but you know that however this goes down, you're a hero. Not kidding. You did what no one else had the guts to do. You took on LUCIFER, to save the world. You held him off long enough to save your friend. I know you're worried about the Hardy Boys over there, but they seem pretty damn determined to stick with you, no matter what. I'll do what I can to protect them… can't believe I'm saying THAT, either. But YOU, Cas. I gotta admit, you're one of a kind, bro."_

_"_ _Why? Why are you helping me?"_

It was a question that Gabriel had asked himself before, so he didn't take offense. Why _was_ he helping the pesky angel? Why risk his own sweet skin for Castiel? Reminding himself to keep his face blank as possible, Gabriel replied,

_"_ _Uh, because I'm not ALWAYS a total dick. And I guess… you remind me of what we used to be. Before we were monsters."_

_"_ _Aw. That was so sweet, it made ME tear up a little."_

That wasn't Castiel's voice.

Gabriel jolted backwards in panic, frantic gaze flying to Lucifer. The predatory smirk on his brother's face as he stared at Gabriel seemed distorted to the point of a nightmare.

"What?" the Devil asked out loud, pointing his sword at Gabriel and squinting. "Did you think I wouldn't figure out what you were up to?"

"Luci!" Gabriel protested, shoving back his fear and desperately trying to play the incident off as no big deal. "Hello, private conversation? Butt out!" He swallowed and held up his hands when Lucifer took a step forward. Shit, shit, shit, oh shit, this was bad. "Come on, bro, what difference does it make, really? So I had a chat with the pipsqueak, but it's not like he was going anywhere. Anyway, we need to focus on Auntie Amara-"

"And you wonder why I don't trust you," Lucifer said with a tsk, shaking his head as he echoed Dean's words. "You wonder why I have to keep you on a chain." With a cool glare, he jerked his foot backwards so that the chain between them went taut. Gabriel lost balance, tripping to the floor in front of the Devil… even for Gabriel, that was not a pleasant place to be.

"Luci-"

_"_ _Gabriel!"_

Cas's voice was cut off as the connection between them was severed. Gabriel's heart clenched at the sudden radio silence, hoping that his little brother wasn't going to pay too dearly.

"Wait, just wait a second-"

"We do remember what happens to Castiel when you do something I don't like, don't we?" Lucifer asked, smiling a little too much and a little too dangerously. The condescension was infuriating, but Gabriel was more concerned about the threat. The younger archangel started to scramble to his feet, but froze when Lucifer pointed the blade at him again.

"Look, it was _my_ idea," Gabriel snapped. "So if you're gonna get all mad at someone, take it out on _me_."

"How self-sacrificing of you. Believe me, you and I are going to have a _long_ heart-to-heart, little brother. And Castiel? Well… let's just say he's going to wish you hadn't done that," Lucifer informed him, low and threatening enough to make Gabriel feel sick.

"Lucifer-

"But later. Fortunately for both of you, you're right. We do need to focus on Amara right now. You lot!" he shouted now, turning to the far corner where Sam and Dean were being closely watched. "Bring them."

Gabriel climbed slowly back to his feet, shaken at how fast that had all just turned against him. That Lucifer would discover the connection had always been a possibility, but the fact that Gabriel had just earned Castiel another round of punishment to look forward to was like a knife through the gut. He watched as the demons cut the Winchesters free and dragged them to their feet, manhandling them towards the dais.

"Alright, I'm going!" Dean snarled, trying to shake them off, spirited as ever. Sam was watching the Trickster with a frown, though, cocking his head slightly in an obvious quest for answers. Gabriel turned away.

They weren't going to like this next part.

"Dean," Lucifer said, smiling and sweeping his hand in a mock cordial gesture. "Up here."

"What? Why?" the human demanded. Gabriel could feel the older hunter's gaze flicking to him as well, but he still didn't try to meet their gaze or offer explanations.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and raised his sword. "Because I'm going to use this on you to draw Amara in."

"What?" Sam yelped. He lurched forward so ferociously, trying to protect his brother, that the demon guards had to grab hold of him again and force him back. Even with arms pinned, the human still continued to struggle, shouting, "No! We agreed to help you _fight_ -"

"This _is_ how you help," Lucifer informed them. "Dean is bound to the Darkness. No matter where she is, she'll always come help him. So…" He raised the sword again, pressing it under Dean's chin so that the hunter had to tilt his head up a bit. Though his expression was stoic and cold, Gabriel could sense the mounting panic.

"I said, _no_!" Sam yelled. Gabriel felt Lucifer's twinge of annoyance, and quickly stepped up himself before Lucifer could simply wipe the younger Winchester off the map.

"We're not gonna _kill_ him," he pointed out. "Just… hurt him enough that he's _almost_ dead." Damn, he was almost grateful that Cas couldn't hear this part, as it would have been next to impossible for the angel to keep his cool. "If he's already dead, it's too late, but Amara will feel it if he's dying. She'll come rushing in, and then she's right where we want her."

"No way," Sam ground out again, pulling hard against the demons restraining him. Gabriel finally met his eyes, seeing the sense of betrayal there, but the archangel brushed that off. He would do what he could for the Winchesters because in spite of everything, he did kinda like them. But, priorities.

"So… you think she'll… try to heal me, or something?" Dean asked, uncertain green eyes flicking between Lucifer and Gabriel. Lucifer's mouth twitched.

"Or something," he agreed. "Either that, or she'll try to consume you. Guess it really depends on what that 'special bond' between you actually means."

"Either way, she'll be distracted," Gabriel pointed out. "Gives us time to do our bit, hopefully before she finishes whatever it is she's gonna do."

"Hopefully?" Dean echoed. "Comforting." He shook his head, but sighed as he shot a sideways look at Sam. The younger hunter froze, then fought harder.

"No. Dean! Don't even think about it! _Dean_!"

"Isn't it adorable how he thinks there's a choice in this?" Lucifer snapped, sounding more impatient than amused. "Once she's vulnerable and distracted, we'll attack, along with the demons. With all of that, she'll be weak enough to use the spell. And you," he went on, glaring at Sam and stuffing Metatron's page into his hand, "will read it, since you have nothing else to contribute."

Dean frowned, shaking his head with a wary look at Sam. "But won't that mean he gets the Mark?"

Lucifer stared at him for a second, before snorting in snide laughter. "Um… no. Why would I let _him_ have the Mark? No, it'll be going to _me_."

Gabriel rolled his eyes as he watched the confusion play out on the Winchesters' faces, waited for them to come to the obvious conclusion that he himself had known all along. He could almost see it as realization hit the hunters: Lucifer _wanted_ the Mark. It wasn't a curse for him anymore, but a gift, a source of even greater power.

And they wouldn't be able to kill him.

And Cas, who wasn't strong enough to cast him out as a mere archangel, would never be free.

Slowly, Dean started to shake his head. "No. No… that's not negotiable."

"Maybe Gabriel-" Sam started, gesturing, but the Trickster held up his hands in dismay.

"No _way_ , I don't want that thing. Like Lucifer said, it goes to him."

Geez, what a terrible plan, even for a Winchester! Turn _him_ into a crazy, evil, killing machine? So there would be _two_ rabid archangels running around? Uh-uh, he would die before taking on the Mark, if for no other reason than that Lucifer would kill him in order to intercept it. Gabriel wished there was a way to communicate with the pair that he'd already thought all of this through, and it was actually the right move. Besides, it was sort of their _only_ move.

"No!" Dean snapped, louder this time. "He's not getting that thing back again!"

"What if I don't do it?" Sam added, lifting his chin and shaking off the demons who held him tight. "What if I refuse to read the spell?"

"Like I said… adorable." Lucifer raised a hand, and Sam fell to the floor with a cry of pain that made even Gabriel wince a bit. It was Dean's turn to be held back by the demons now, preventing him from rushing to his brother's aid as Lucifer kept Sam pinned to the floor by his power and stalked forward.

Kneeling down slowly, hand raised to annihilate Sam with a snap of his fingers, Lucifer finished, "Don't read it, then. I don't care. I'll get any one of a hundred demons here to say the spell instead, and then finish Dean off as soon as I don't need him anymore. Or, you do as you're told and I let you both live when this is over. Take your pick."

Sam swallowed, looking to Gabriel as though the Trickster had any intention of helping him out. The archangel didn't move, merely raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated motion of waiting for an answer. Seriously, why did they keep thinking he would show his hand so early, when they still _needed_ Lucifer?

When the ginormous hunter seemed to realize he wasn't going to get any help, he finally looked back to Lucifer and growled, "I want your _word_ you'll heal Dean afterwards."

"Fine, whatever."

"And we want Cas back."

Lucifer shrugged, a smirk playing across his face. "Too bad. He belongs to me now and I'm keeping him. And when we're finished here, I'm going to torture him some more. I have _you_ to thank for that, really. If _you'd_ said yes to me, I would've never known how much fun Castiel is to play with."

Ohhh, that one was below the belt. Remembering Sam's insistence that he would have given himself up before sentencing Cas to this, Gabriel watched as the young hunter's expression flashed with grief and shame. Dean made another attempt to claw his way towards Lucifer, which was basically useless.

"You'd better leave him alone," he snarled, "or-"

"Or _what?_ " Lucifer demanded, shooting a look at Dean. "I don't see what the big debate is here. You don't get to make demands: you either play along or you die, and at the moment, I honestly don't care which it is. So decide right now, or I decide for you."

"Alright!" Sam's face crumpled, and he looked away. "Alright."

Geez, finally. While Gabriel did have to admire their gumption, and their steadfast determination to speak up for Castiel, the archangel knew that Lucifer was right. They had nothing to bargain with, absolutely zero leverage. It had taken them an awfully long time to realize this was the only way out. As for the rest… well, they would just have to trust him. Which they didn't.

Lucifer stood, taking a step back so that Sam could clamber back up to his feet. All eyes turned to Dean. Gabriel saw the hunter's throat bob, glancing at the gleaming sword in the Devil's hand with obvious dread at the pain that was sure to be coming. Then, squaring his shoulders, Dean stepped in front of Lucifer.

"Cas, don't worry, alright?" he said. "Everything's gonna be fine."

Lucifer snorted. "Again… he _can't hear you_. I've made sure of that," he added, flashing a glare in Gabriel's direction.

The younger archangel raised his hands, but then finally spoke up, "Actually, ya know, we might be better off if you get rid of that blindfold."

"Still at it, are you?" Lucifer demanded with tightened jaw. Gabriel made a face.

"Uh, not to bring up the big 'I told you so', but I _told_ you last time that you should have left him free to see what was going on. And what happened? You didn't. And how did that go for us? Maybe you should actually listen to me this time."

"You never stop, do you?"

Gabriel shrugged, grabbing the Lantern in preparation. "Just sayin'. He'll be able to brace himself and _you_ from her attacks, bro. Dude, he _wants_ you to win this fight, and he's chained up anyway. Just take off the blindfold."

Lucifer seemed to be mulling this over, as every demon available began to slowly fill the room, preparing for the big showdown. "Well," he drawled. "The gag stays on. But… I suppose I can let him watch this."

There was a flash in the depths of the blue eyes, like a curtain being pulled away. They had just enough time to see Cas—truly Castiel—appear at those soul windows, before Lucifer raised his sword and plunged it into Dean's stomach.


	13. Where the Battle Rages On

Castiel felt like he too had just been stabbed through the gut. Inside the prison of his mind, he fought and pulled at the chains that bound him. He screamed into the gag as Dean stared back at him, eyes glazed with pain, but no one could hear him. When Lucifer's voice had suddenly broken into the angel's conversation with Gabriel, Castiel had expected to be sequestered and punished again… but he'd never imagined _this_.

"Dnn!" he tried to yell, eyes burning with helpless frustration at his inability to aid his best friend.

 _"Oh, quit your wriggling,"_ Lucifer's voice leaked in like poisonous fumes. Castiel heard the delight in his tone. _"He'll survive."_

"Cas, he'll be fine," Gabriel assured the angel, eyes darting around the room as he held an old lantern aloft. It cast no light, covered by a metal shield. "Brace yourself, bro. She'll be here any minute."

"You four," Lucifer snapped out to a group of demons. The crisp authority in his voice had them snapping upright as he gestured to Sam. "Guard him. She doesn't get close to him, got it?"

"Best hunker down in the corner, Samsquatch," Gabriel advised, clapping the distraught hunter on the upper arm before turning another wary circle.

Everything was happening so fast, and Castiel had no one to explain what was going on, now that Gabriel's connection to him had been severed. Though he could only see through the mirrors into the real world of what Lucifer was looking at, the angel's gaze remained latched on Dean for as long as he was visible.

The older Winchester hadn't made a sound yet, mouth hanging open as though in shock. He seemed to move almost in slow motion, sinking to his knees. His trembling hands reached for the wound in his abdomen, coating him in blood. Castiel swallowed hard, silently pleading with his friend to hold on.

"Dean!" Sam cried out, pulled back by the four demons assigned to guard him. "Dean, hang in there!"

"Sammy…"

Blood dripped out of the corner of Dean's mouth, and then he collapsed onto his side. One hand still covered his stomach, but it couldn't hold back the slow, insidious red creeping from inside, his life force trickling away a bit at a time.

"Mmph!" Castiel pushed himself forward. If he could just get out of the sigil, perhaps he'd have enough power to-

 _"Castiel,"_ Lucifer growled into his mind. The weight on his shoulders increased, too heavy now for the angel to move at all. _"Pull it together, NOW, or the blinders go back on. We're about to face Amara, so forget him and FOCUS."_

Amara… yes. Castiel took one last look at Dean, curled up on himself now as his breaths shuddered with pain and gurgled with blood. Then, the angel forced his eyes away and swallowed back the agony that he felt, as he had long ago became accustomed to doing.

"The rest of you, clear out until I say!" Lucifer shouted to the room at large. Castiel watched the demons all disappear in the blink of an eye, leaving only the two archangels, Sam and his temporary bodyguards, and Dean—silently dying.

As the archangels flew to a higher vantage point out of sight in the massive hall, Castiel tried to clear his mind for the task ahead. If this was truly to be the final battle, he needed his head in the game. But damn it… Lucifer had intentionally made him watch that, the angel had no doubt. He pushed the nausea aside, trying not to remember the look on Dean's face as the blade ran him through.

 _"All cozy in there?"_ Lucifer purred, making Castiel hate him all the more. _"Stay sharp… try not to screw everything up this time, she'll be here any minute."_

The scream heralded Amara's presence, an unearthly sound that chilled Castiel to his very core. She came through the front door in a whirlwind of darkness, flying to Dean's side with an expression that spoke of rage and resolution.

"Dean," she called, audible from the archangels' hiding place. Amara knelt down, a hand on Dean's shoulder; Castiel could see the hunter's face clearly, and the uncertainty that hid in the agony.

"Don't," the older Winchester couldn't help but murmur, instincts making him shy away and try to push her hand back. He was lying in a puddle of blood by now, though, an image that left Castiel in despair.

"Hold on, Dean," the Darkness murmured as her eyes browsed his dying body. Though her expression was grim, there was also a spark of anticipation that frightened the angel—and, clearly, Dean. He tried again to wiggle away from her, but stopped with a tight gasp of pain.

From Castiel's peripheral vision, he could see Gabriel shifting and casting a look at Lucifer. He seemed anxious to make a move, and Castiel whole-heartedly agreed. Lucifer, however, only shook his head and leaned forward to watch with greater interest.

"It's alright," Amara assured the fallen hunter, one hand cupping his cheek and the other falling on his chest. "I can take away all the pain."

"Amara…"

"Shh, it's alright. You'll be with me. Forever. And you'll never hurt again… there'll be only peace."

Castiel's heart tightened with horror, but he could only watch, helpless, as the Darkness opened her mouth and lowered closer to Dean. A light—achingly beautiful, white, glowing with loyalty and righteousness—rose from the hunter's mouth as his body convulsed in shock.

His soul. She was consuming his soul, and soon _Dean_ and everything he was would be gone. They had to attack, they had to go _now_!

_"MMPH!"_

"Lucifer!" Gabriel hissed. Still Lucifer watched, as more of that pure white light was pulled away from Dean.

Castiel saw but didn't feel the elbow that Gabriel dug into his side, and only then did Lucifer surge forward.

"NOW!" the archangel bellowed, voice echoing around the empty stone chamber. Amara's head whipped up in response, and though her feral expression should have frightened Castiel, he could feel nothing but relief as he watched Dean's soul pour back into his body.

"Kah zoh sal meh…"

Castiel heard Sam begin saying the spell, as did Amara. She wheeled around, on her feet in seconds as Dean's eyes fell closed and didn't reopen. The demon guards crouched in preparation to hold her off if necessary, but the archangels got there first. Amara shrieked with rage as Lucifer's blade pierced her shoulder. Though it wasn't nearly enough to slow the timeless being down, it did plenty to draw her attention. She waved her arm towards him in furious retaliation, a wave of power hurtling at the archangel as he flew past.

Taking a deep breath, Castiel braced himself for the impact, waiting for the inevitable pain that he would have to heal them of as quickly as possible. Before the assault could land, though, Gabriel was suddenly there, swooping in to guard his brother with an expression of intense concentration. Both arms were raised in an X in front of him. Right when Amara's power was about to strike, he flung both hands out in a wide, horizontal arc, meeting the attack and deflecting it away from Lucifer and Castiel with the clashing sound of thunder.

Castiel jolted as a huge chunk of stone fell only inches away, more pieces raining down from the ricochets. Though Gabriel was grinning now as he and Lucifer regrouped shoulder to shoulder, the Darkness looked less than amused.

"You brats again," she snarled. "Might have known. Came back for a second helping?"

A soft moan from Dean distracted her, her dark gaze flicking between the man she was bound to aid and the archangels that she wanted to tear to shreds. In the corner, Sam was still reading the incantation, though nothing seemed to be happening. Castiel's heart sank; the words appeared to have no meaning. Had Metatron deceived them?

"Came back to finish the job," Gabriel countered.

"You haven't recovered yet." Lucifer took a step forward, his field of vision fixed on Amara, who glared and clenched her fists. "What's the matter, Aunt? I thought you said you barely felt our attack last time."

"Finishing you off will be a pleasure. Remember _this,_ nephew?" she snarled, whipping out her hand again and pointing this time at Gabriel. There was no flash of light, no physical sign of her power, but Gabriel's body jerked and convulsed as a scream was ripped from his mouth. Castiel had never known the archangel to show it if he was in pain; for him to give her the satisfaction of his cries must mean that the agony was beyond excruciating.

"No!" Lucifer shouted. Throwing himself sideways, he collided with Gabriel hard enough to knock him out of the path of Amara's attack. Both archangels fell to the ground, the lantern falling from Gabriel's nerveless fingers.

Pain ripped through Castiel as he and Lucifer briefly absorbed the torturous power intended to destroy Gabriel. Castiel yelled wordlessly into the gag, eyes clenched shut as he focused all his power on renewing Lucifer's energy, helping him push past the attack.

"Rah zod geh noh," Sam read from his corner. From their position on the floor, Castiel watched as Amara twitched, drawing in on herself slightly before turning towards the youngest hunter. So something _was_ happening. Hope surged through the angel, and he redoubled his efforts to send more power to Lucifer.

"On your feet, little brother," the Devil growled to Gabriel, jumping up and raising his sword. On cue, the remainder of the demons returned at last. The cloud of smoke was so thick, so dense, that even their angelic sight could barely pierce through the swirling veil that attacked Amara in a furious swarm. Only her shouts from within proved that the pulsing lightning from the cloud's center was succeeding in damaging her.

Stealing the opportunity, Castiel desperately turned his attention to Dean, straining in his bonds to tilt Lucifer's gaze enough to see the human. Only his lower body was visible from the angle Lucifer was looking, but that was enough to tell Castiel that the pool of blood Dean was lying in had grown bigger. And meanwhile… Sam…

"Bah leh- leh… b-bah-"

The young hunter wavered, then started coughing. The horrible, gurgling hacks echoed even over the noise of the demons attacking, or perhaps Castiel was just more tuned to the suffering of his humans. He heard Gabriel curse, then the Trickster was shouting into Lucifer's ear to be heard over the noise.

"Last time, Dad and Michael did the incantation! What if it takes more power than Sam has? Lucifer, I think it might be killing him!"

"He just has to last long enough," Lucifer growled in reply, turning his back on the younger Winchester. "We'll have to weaken her enough for the spell to take hold. Gabriel, the lantern!"

Nodding, the younger archangel dove for the lantern he had dropped, as Lucifer bellowed at Sam, "Keep reading! You stop now, Dean dies for nothing!"

"…bah… leh ta kah…"

More hacking coughs and the sound of Sam spitting a glob of blood on the ground left Castiel terrified for _both_ his friends, but the only contribution he could make was to keep Lucifer strong. His grace burned with exertion, as the demonic cloud exploded outwards to reveal Amara with blood dripping from a thousand shallow cuts dotting her skin. One look at her incensed face—even Lucifer had nothing on her when Amara was truly angry—left Castiel bracing even harder.

"So much for your pets," Amara snarled, chest heaving as she jerked her chin to show that the demons wouldn't ever be coming back. "Is that all you've got?"

"Well, there's also this," Lucifer retorted. He nodded at Gabriel, out of Amara's line of sight.

"Sam, close your eyes!" the Trickster shouted; Dean's were already shut. Castiel watched as Gabriel jerked the door of the lantern open. The resulting flash was so brilliant, so blinding, that even the angel had to turn his head and squeeze his eyes tightly closed. Light, captured from the worlds of dozens of men and women over the span of a thousand years, erupted forth with so much intensity that it burned like a supernova.

Somewhere close by, Amara was screaming. Castiel heard Lucifer laugh—he was the Lightbearer, unaffected by the blaze. The screaming continued as the Darkness's natural enemy left her weak and disoriented. She must have been firing off random shots, blinded and unable to aim, because the angel heard more pieces of the walls bursting to pebbly crumbles and raining down in the chamber. One shot hit Lucifer hard, throwing him off his feet, but Castiel was able to quickly focus on the damage from her strike.

"She's ready!" Lucifer shouted to Gabriel. "Hold her off, I'll finish the spell!"

Then they were moving, swimming through the sea of light that was still belching forth from the lantern in volcanic waves. Castiel could tell Lucifer had flown over to Sam only by the sound of his friend's desperate coughing, the sound of retching as the human's lungs pleaded for air. Gabriel was right… Sam didn't have the necessary power to complete the spell without killing himself, but he had held his own until Lucifer could finish the incantation.

Lucifer ripped the page out of Sam's hand, then shouted,

"Zah feh le doh… PAH DEH RAH!"

This time, her scream ricocheted off of every rock, every stone, making Castiel wish his hands were free to cover his ears. The light had diminished enough for him to peel his eyes open. Amara stood in the center of the chamber, arms outspread and face tilted up to the heavens as a whirling stretch of darkness began to form overhead. Gabriel watched from the side, one arm up to shield his own face from the supernova that was rapidly being sucked into the expanse of black, the other extended towards Amara.

"No!" she shrieked. "Not again! Kill me! _KILL ME_!"

But Lucifer only smiled. Castiel stared with him, gaze fixed on his arm as the Devil ripped the dress shirt's sleeve aside. The angel's heart sank. Little by little, the Mark grew bolder and more defined as the black vortex descended on Amara. This was the only way… he knew that… but how would Sam and Dean kill him now?

"NO!" With one last shriek, Amara disappeared into the nothingness that would keep her caged for the rest of time. Castiel could hear Sam finally gasp in a lungful of air, could see Gabriel in the background watching Lucifer with wary eyes, but Lucifer himself merely clenched a fist in delight as the Mark burned bright in triumph. It filled him with power, so much energy flooding their body that Castiel felt every scar, every wound erased in a flash. It swirled through his veins, though the angel himself couldn't access that power; it was bound to Lucifer's essence, not to their body.

He felt the Devil's high, though, as well as the archangel's insatiable need to conquer, to destroy, to kill, to rip apart anything that stood in his way.

And he watched, with horror in his very bones, as Lucifer's gaze turned slowly but inexorably to the Winchesters.


	14. It's the Same Old Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, there's some warnings here. Lucifer is a creep. A creepy, creepy creep. There is nothing explicit but there are hints and threats of non-con and confirmation that it's happened in the past, but nothing graphic or even named. I leave it to your imagination. But if you're in a place that just isn't good with that right now, please skip right on down to about halfway when Luci and Gabe start talking.

The power was… intoxicating. Lucifer breathed it in, feeling his entire body tingling with the sheer amount of strength he possessed now, and he wondered—not for the first time—why he had ever given up the Mark to Cain to begin with. He should have never let it go, and now that he had it again, he certainly never would.

It was like he had never even been injured in the battle at all. Lucifer clenched his fist again, closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders in delight. Somewhere inside, he felt Castiel starting to teeter, obviously at the very edge of his physical capacity. The fight with Amara had tapped him out, leaving him too drained and empty to stay fully awake for this next part.

Well… Lucifer couldn't have that. Watching what happened next would break Castiel for good, and oh, what fun that would be.

Allowing only the slightest speck of power to return to the lowly angel, Lucifer smirked as he felt his captive jolt back awake and then start wriggling again to get free. As though he had a chance.

"Lucifer!" Sam snapped. He was fighting against the demons who had been guarding him, now forming a blockade to keep him back from the archangel. "You gave your word you would heal Dean!"

Lucifer shrugged. "And so I will." Oh, he would let them live… and Sam would soon come to realize that letting Dean die now would have been far, far more merciful. The archangel looked down on the human sprawled bloody on the ground, mostly gone already. With a brutal kick to the unprotected hunter, Lucifer said, "He'll live."

Dean's eyes shot open and his mouth opened in a frantic inhalation as life returned to his broken body. The wound closed up, the internal damage scrubbed away in less than a second. The hunter scrambled on the floor to sit up, a task made difficult by the blood he kept slipping in. "What the-"

"Dean!" Sam pushed through the demons at last as Lucifer gave them a lazy wave to let the young Winchester pass. "Are you okay?"

The older hunter blinked, dazed, as he looked around the chamber. His eyes fell on Lucifer for a second with obvious mistrust, before he asked Sam between coughs, "Did… did we win?"

"She's gone. You're alright?" Sam demanded, cupping Dean's face in his hands and tilting his head like he would actually be able to see that Dean's soul was still occupying his body. "God, Dean…" Abandoning his extensive medical check, Sam pulled Dean in for a tight hug.

"Aww…" Lucifer purred. "Isn't that just precious."

Sam let go and whipped around. His eyes were hard, determined, and Lucifer could tell he was going to get a kick out of whatever the boy did next.

"Nos invocatus Nomine Domini," the young hunter growled. "Exorcizamus archangeli Lucifer et proice abs vas!"

A whisper of wind blew through the stone chamber, ruffling through Lucifer's feathers. Sam might as well have just asked him politely to leave, for all the good his spell had done. In the silence that chased the last echoes off the cold walls, Lucifer could see the dismay and fear in the two Winchesters as they all stared at each other.

Then, Lucifer's lips pulled up into a smile, then a grin, and finally, he laughed.

"Did… did you just… did you just try to _exorcise_ me?" he asked, shaking his head. The archangel held his arm out to show them the raised scar. "I have the Mark. You think a few words of Latin are going to work on _me_?"

"Sammy," Dean murmured, panic in his eyes.

"Um… run?"

As one, the two Winchesters leaped to their feet and spun towards the opening of the chamber. Shaking his head, Lucifer jerked his chin towards the near wall. Both hunters went flying into it, crashing against the unforgiving stone and then sinking to the floor. Lucifer had to grin when they both fought to get back up again—really, they never learned. With one hand extended towards the pair, the archangel's power allowed them to push themselves up as far as their hands and knees, but no further.

Perfect.

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer materialized the chains that forced the two into Crowley's previous position. Manacles latched around their wrists, preventing them from lifting their hands more than an inch off the ground, keeping them on all fours. Spiked metal collars appeared around their necks, also attached to a length of chain that connected them to the floor. Crowley had been fun, but _this_ was going to be a true delight.

"No!" Dean shouted, jerking his hands as hard as he could in an attempt to pull the chains free of the stones. Furious and desperate eyes shot to Lucifer, as the archangel strolled towards his new pets with a cold smirk on his face. "Get these off!"

"No barking," Lucifer ordered, wagging his finger at Dean; the hunter's voice disappeared, leaving him wide-eyed and fighting silently instead. Turning next to Sam, the archangel shook his head. "And you. Bad doggie. An exorcism, really? Another gem from Metatron, I assume."

"We had a deal, Lucifer," Sam half-whispered, already trembling as Lucifer reached a casual hand out to run his fingers through his puppy's hair.

"Right. You help me get rid of Amara, and I don't kill you," Lucifer agreed. "She's gone, and you're not dead. I'm an archangel of my word."

"Cas-"

"-will get to watch… every… single… _second_ of this," Lucifer assured him. He paused long enough to glance inward, delighted to see a stricken Castiel looking on with terror tight on his face. "Castiel? Remember everything I told you I'd do to your two favorite humans?" He smirked, eyes lit with anticipation. "It's that time."

Sam inhaled sharply as Lucifer knelt down next to him and grasped the hunter's chin. Putting his face close to Sam's ear, Lucifer whispered, "You never should have jumped into that Cage, Sam. So here's what I'm going to do to you."

Still in a husky whisper, but just loud enough for Dean to hear as well, Lucifer shared a few ideas he had, in vividly explicit and graphic detail. The younger Winchester's expression grew stonier and stonier, while Dean was looking a delightful shade of green.

"But this is nothing new for you, is it Sammy?" Lucifer's grip dug into Sam's chin as he jerked the hunter's face around to look at a wide-eyed Dean. Cheek to cheek, Lucifer murmured, "We've already had so much fun together, right, bunk buddy? So I think I'll finish with you. I'm going to start with your brother. Fresh meat, isn't this exciting?"

"Don't you _dare_ ," Sam spat out, though the tremble in his voice prevented him from sounding all that tough. He was breathing hard, on the brink of hyperventilation. Probably remembering all the fun times they'd had.

"Think he'll last longer than you did?" Lucifer murmured, running his fingers through Sam's hair again to make the hunter groan and try to pull away. "I hear he took a while to break in Hell, but all Alastair had was a razor." Lucifer switched to a gravel-filled mockery of Castiel's voice as he finished, "I've got something _much_ better."

Sam tried to yank free again, but the chains refused to give. His voice was rising with panic as he begged, "Lucifer, _don't_! Please, just leave him alone, don't you touch him! _I'm_ the one you want. You've got me, just let Dean and Cas go! I'll be your vessel-"

"Oh, that ship has sailed, Sam."

"No, please!"

Ignoring the hunter's pleas, Lucifer got to his feet to stand over a paralyzed Dean instead. He smiled down at the older Winchester, nearly ecstatic with the high of their fear, of the unadulterated horror reflected in those green eyes. The archangel could feel Castiel going crazy, helplessly locked away inside their head, and he briefly considered taking the gag off just to hear the little angel weep for what Lucifer was about to do Castiel's favorite human… using _his_ body.

"Dude. That's gross."

Lucifer paused, then turned. He'd almost forgotten Gabriel was still here. He eyed his little brother, who was standing nonchalant with arms crossed.

"And that's coming from _me_ ," Gabriel added, cocking an eyebrow. "If you're gonna get all Fifty Shades in here, at least cut me loose first."

Right. There were a few matters to clear up before Lucifer could get started breaking in his pets. Regarding Gabriel for a few seconds, the archangel then turned to his silently waiting demons.

"Get Crowley's old kennel ready for the puppies," he ordered. "Guess you boys will have to wait. _Stay_." Lucifer turned back to Gabriel and finished, "I believe there's an elephant in the room we might as well address."

The demons disappeared towards the opposite corner, where Crowley's cage had been kept within the recesses of the wall. The hunters themselves were trying desperately to escape their chains, but Lucifer had ensured that they wouldn't be going anywhere. Which left his full attention available for Gabriel, who merely shot him a confused look as though he didn't know exactly what Lucifer was talking about.

"What elephant would that be?" the younger archangel asked, shrugging. "Seriously, though. After our glorious battle, brothers against crazy aunt, archangels fighting side by side… I think I deserve to get this stupid thing off, don't I?"

He kicked his foot a couple of times, enough to cast a faint glitter from the chain. Lucifer mulled it over for a second.

"That depends," he finally said as he stepped back towards Gabriel. His younger brother didn't move.

"On?"

"I'd like to think I could trust you, Gabriel. I really do." Lucifer clasped his hands behind his back and raised his eyebrows in an expression that he hoped backed up the sentiment. "But… well, you did try to kill me once."

"Saved your life a couple of times, too."

"And there's the small matter of you going behind my back to talk the runt."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and waved Lucifer off. "Puh-lease," he griped. "That didn't hurt you one bit. Come on, Luci. Just cut me loose and I'll be outta your hair."

Slowly, Lucifer shook his head. Even if he _could_ fully trust his brother, the young archangel wasn't going anywhere, either way. Gabriel was a skilled, deadly fighter. True, Lucifer had the Mark, and true, he was more powerful than anyone who would stand in his way for this world, but he would be glad to have such an ally by his side.

"No," he said. "I'd rather you stay."

"Luci…"

"So the question is… will you?" Lucifer stalked a slow circle around his brother, who continued to turn on the spot so that he wouldn't get tangled in the chain. "Will you stay and fight with me, brother? You and me, together, as we used to be. Will you reclaim your place, on my team?"

Gabriel sighed. "And do what?" he demanded. "Kill off all the humans?"

"Like you honestly care about them. That sentiment is what got you killed in the first place. Besides, I'm only going to kill _most_ of them."

Again, Gabriel sighed. Lucifer had no idea where this reluctance was coming from, and it was starting to piss him off. Maybe his brother just wasn't clear on what the actual options were. With a nod of his head, Lucifer sent the Lantern in Gabriel's hand flying aside so that he had nothing, while the older archangel raised his long sword.

"But understand this," he murmured, silky and cold. "If you're not on my team… well, you're on the _other_ team. And…" He clicked his tongue. "Put it this way, I can't have you on the other team."

"Luci, come on." Gabriel stepped towards him, arms spread open. For once, there wasn't any trace of humor or sarcasm on his face, only earnestness. "Let's just blow this joint. Amara's locked away now, we can go _anywhere_ we want. We can forget this rock and go check out Pandora. Or Asgard! Just you and me, bro, like… like it used to be. What do you say?"

Disgusted, Lucifer turned away, shaking his head in disappointment. "Leave? Just let them live, that's what you want? Now, when I can finally have justice, you want me to just throw it away? What do you think this has _all_ been for, Gabriel? I don't want to see other worlds. I want to destroy _this_ one. And then I'm going home to take command of Heaven, like I deserve."

"Don't do this," Gabriel urged. "I'm actually begging you here, Luci. You could come with _me_. I know you remember what it was like, you and me up in Heaven, terrorizing the others, always getting in and out of trouble. Luci… you were more than just my brother." He paused, taking a deep breath, actually sounding emotional. "You were my _best friend_. This could be our chance to get that back. I know that archangel has _got_ to be in there somewhere. It's not too late, bro."

"Too late?" the older archangel echoed, gaping at his brother in disbelief. "It's been too late from the moment Dad told Michael to cast me out. I don't care what you were to me, that won't be enough to save you if you turn on me now. So make… your… choice."

He stepped forward, the tip of his sword resting on Gabriel's chest. The younger archangel stared at him, mouth falling open slightly as his golden eyes clouded over with pain. For a moment, Lucifer almost thought Gabriel wasn't going to answer at all. Finally, though, his eyes fell closed and his shoulders slumped.

"So all of it… everything we were, everything we had… every reason I left my home instead of standing against you… none of it means anything?"

"You're here, aren't you?" Lucifer snapped. "I told you, I chose you for a reason."

"Yeah… because you knew I couldn't do it. I can't kill you. _That's_ why you brought me back instead of Raphael. I- I can't…" Gabriel's voice broke and he opened his eyes again. The look of defeat rendered him nearly unrecognizable. He'd only ever looked like that when Lucifer had found him with Amara.

The memory reminded him of feelings of protectiveness, which only Gabriel could truly invoke, but that did nothing now to soothe the raging need for vengeance and destruction. Inside, the Mark took those old emotions and swatted them aside, leaving Lucifer only a fierce anger that Gabriel was still arguing with him.

"No," he agreed, digging the blade in slightly, though Gabriel's only reaction was a tightening in his expression. "You can't. You already proved that. But I can kill you. And I will, in a heartbeat, if you don't convince me right here and now that you're with me."

Gabriel exhaled in a shaky burst, eyes flooding suddenly with tears. Lucifer was surprised by the tactic. Surely the young archangel knew better than to believe he would be moved by _that_. But Gabriel didn't do anything more than to take another deep breath, then slowly shake his head.

"Gabriel-" Sam started to say from behind the archangels, but one furious snap of Lucifer's fingers left the human as mute as his brother.

"Fine," Lucifer seethed. Disappointment flashed through him, but Gabriel had brought this on himself. "If you're _really_ going to leave me no choice… Get down on your knees."

His brother didn't move, so Lucifer reached out with his power and pushed. The younger archangel was strong, but not strong enough to stay on his feet with Lucifer's grace and the Mark urging him down. The Devil stepped forward as Gabriel struggled to get back up without success. The Trickster fell still as Lucifer raised the blade.

He had not wanted to have to do this.

"Close your eyes, Gabriel."

The archangel's jaw tightened. "Let me talk to Cas, first."

"You've _got_ to be kidding me!" Lucifer snarled. "Is that filthy angel the _only_ thing that matters to you anymore?"

"Y'know, I'm not asking for a lot!" Gabriel shot back, voice rising. "I want to say goodbye, and you know what, Lucifer? You _owe_ me that much!"

This was rich. If Gabriel cared _half_ as much about Lucifer as he did _Castiel_ , he would have jumped at the chance to join on and destroy this world together. Clearly, Lucifer had misjudged his brother, the only one he'd thought might see reason. Shaking his head, the archangel growled in disgust, "Fine. Make it quick."

Traveling inward to where Castiel was watching the scene unfold, Lucifer stormed straight over to his prisoner and grabbed him by the collar. He jerked the angel onto his feet, dragging him front and center. In position, Lucifer kicked Castiel with bruising force. The angel stumbled and dropped to his knees as Lucifer temporarily handed over control of the vessel so that their body fell to a slumped, kneeling position, too.

"Cas!" Gabriel gasped as the sword clattered out of Castiel's paralyzed hands. The lowly angel looked at his brother wide-eyed, but couldn't speak yet, could only stare and take rapid, shallow breaths.

Standing behind Castiel in their mind, Lucifer clenched his fist in the angel's dark hair, then leaned down to rip the gag away. Castiel flinched, a soft groan escaping his mouth.

"Gabriel," he whispered as soon as he could. "Go! Run, I'll hold him off-"

Lucifer released his grip and struck the angel on the side of the head, pitching him forward with no way to catch himself with his hands bound to the yoke. Castiel gasped in pain but bit off any other sound as Gabriel lurched forward to keep him from hitting the floor with his face.

"Whoa… easy. Sorry, kiddo," Gabriel replied, looking down. "But I'm not running. Not this time."

"You're… the only one… who can save them. Dean, and… and Sam," Castiel murmured, hunched over as he took labored breaths. His struggles were getting weaker; clearly he'd been wasting the grace he might have used to strengthen himself on attempts to escape. The Mark burned within Lucifer with delight at the angel's suffering.

"Do you trust me, bro?"

In the mirrors, Gabriel swam back into view as Castiel opened his eyes. Lucifer felt the angel frown in confusion.

"Yes…?"

Gabriel gripped the angel by the shoulders, his eyes boring into Castiel's.

"Cas… I mean, _really_ trust me," he said. His gaze intensified, something pointed and deliberate in those golden orbs. "Like you trusted Lucifer?"

The older archangel frowned, instincts making his gut clench in warning. Castiel's eyes widened, grim jaw tightening.

" _Yes_."

"No!" Too late, Lucifer realized what Gabriel was actually asking. With a shout of rage, he grabbed Castiel by the trench coat and spun him around to slam a fist into the wretched angel's face. The blow knocked Castiel down to the ground, but by the time Lucifer reclaimed control and turned back to stop Gabriel, there was no revoking the permission Castiel had just given.

Gabriel's empty vessel collapsed to the floor, as his angelic essence streamed into Castiel's instead.


	15. Three Angels Walk Into a Bar

Gabriel pushed his way into the small room in Castiel's mind where Lucifer had been keeping the angel prisoner. It didn't take long to assess the situation; Lucifer was standing front and center, looking furious, while a bloody and beaten Castiel was straining to maneuver himself back up off the floor. A ridiculously heavy looking yoke across his shoulders held the angel's arms suspended out to the side.

No wonder he hadn't been able to move.

Cas was also ghostly white, and the reason soon became apparent as a crack split one of the mirrors, splintering up from the ground so that bits of glass rained down on the scene and disappeared. The angel was fighting with everything in him to hold the vessel together, but it was more than he could realistically take.

"Are you insane?" Lucifer shouted, brandishing an archangel blade.

Gabriel shrugged. "It's been said."

"This body can't hold two archangels! And if your plan is to blow up the vessel to get rid of me, you'll only be sacrificing your precious Castiel, too!"

More pieces of the mind-realm crumbled down. As one, Lucifer and Gabriel shot their hands out towards the walls as well, holding them together as a massive groaning and a shudder warned that this arrangement wouldn't last for long. With their assistance, the quaking eased. Lucifer glared at the younger archangel.

"And just how do you think you're going to fight me? You don't have any weapons in here."

A weight fell into Gabriel's inner pocket, making him frown. What the hell? He reached into his jacket, then started to smile as he realized what it was he'd felt.

"You mean, nothing like this?" Gabriel asked, pulling out the blade that had appeared as if by magic. But not just any blade… this was _his_ blade, his own actual weapon that had been lost after the Elysian Fields. It thrummed to life as his grace embedded within the metal recognized him, fitting perfectly to his hand.

Lucifer stared, obviously taken aback by this. "How did you get that?" the older archangel growled. "I control this space. You can't have that, it's impossible.."

 _Thanks, Dad._ Gabriel grinned, shrugging. "Hey, say what you want about the Big Man… maybe he never bothers to show up, but at least he gives us what we need to fight for ourselves." Shoot, he'd take all the help he could get. It would be a miracle if he actually pulled this off anyway, and Gabriel was just glad that he'd never told Castiel the details of his plan. If Lucifer had overheard it and kept him from getting in, there wouldn't have been a chance in hell of them ever getting rid of him.

The mind realm trembled again with stress, but Gabriel kept his eyes locked on Lucifer. "So," he said. "Three angels walk into a bar."

"You've _got_ to be joking-"

"And the bartender gives them a drink." He and Lucifer started to circle, both with archangel blades extended. "And it's magic. It shows them their deepest desires. The older one," he continued, pointing at Lucifer with his sword, "drinks it and sees himself conquering worlds like a mega-douche, more powerful than anything alive. The charming one…" Here, Gabriel paused long enough to flash a cocky smirk and gesture towards himself, before his expression turned grim again. "…sees a time before his brother became a monster."

"I don't know what you think you're accomplishing here," Lucifer snapped as they rounded another slow circle.

"But the younger one…" Gabriel shook his head, eyes flicking over to Castiel, still bound, still pouring out what little strength he had left to buy the archangel enough time to end this. "He finishes his drink and goes home. Back to his two best friends, where he belongs, exactly as they are. He thinks it was just a normal beer." The Trickster snorted. "It's not really a joke," he admitted. "But it _is_ kinda funny, don't you think?"

Lucifer didn't say anything as Gabriel waved his blade between the two of them, pointing out, "I mean, you and me, Luci, we're two of the most powerful beings who ever lived. But _he_ 's the one who'll get what he wants."

"You chose the wrong side, Gabriel," the older archangel snarled, rushing in for the attack at last. Gabriel met the swing of his blade with a parry of his own, sparks flying from the sting of metal on metal. Again and again, the archangels danced and struck, neither finding their mark.

Distracted by their battle, neither archangel was wasting much attention on helping keep the vessel healed. It wasn't until the floor beneath them split with an echoing crack like thunder that Gabriel realized everything was literally falling apart, and Castiel was slumped back on his heels.

The rift had separated the archangels, but fortunately Cas was on Gabriel's side. Taking a chance, Gabriel turned his back on Lucifer long enough to fly over to the imprisoned angel. Two blows of an archangel's blade was all it took to free Cas of the chains that had held him bound for so long. The yoke slipped off the angel's shoulders, leaving Castiel to collapse to the floor, panting.

"Go, Cas!" Gabriel shouted, whirling back to face Lucifer as the archangel flew over the crack in the floor towards them. "Use my vessel! You have my permission, go! Help Sam and Dean!"

"No!" But it was too late, and Lucifer couldn't stop him. Castiel fled. Gabriel got just a short glimpse through the mirrored walls as the white light of Castiel's angelic form flew out of their body and into the one Gabriel had left empty.

Safe. Gabriel grinned as he blocked another strike from Lucifer, hopping over the rift in the floor as the older archangel pressed his advantage and attacked with fury. Both of them were beginning to show signs of wear, skin cracking from the blistering energy that two archangels contained. They paid no mind, focused only on each other.

Unfortunately, the Mark was powering Lucifer, and Gabriel knew that if the fight continued for too long, he was going to lose.

Good thing he was so clever, and had a better plan than just "fight to the death".

"Betraying me once," Lucifer snarled as sparks showered down from another parry. "I could have chalked that up to you being misguided. Twice? You're showing your true colors, brother. But you're wasting your time. I have the Mark… I can't be killed."

"I don't want to kill you," Gabriel pointed out, blade clashing against blade. "I wanna go back to before you were an evil jackass. Did you honestly just miss that entire metaphor?"

"Why do you even care what happens to them?" Lucifer snapped as they circled and struck. "You've killed more humans than _I_ have."

"True." Not his proudest moments, to be sure.

"Then why are you doing this? You think this will buy you _redemption_?"

The disdain was clear in Lucifer's voice, but Gabriel only snorted with laughter. "Redemption? There's no redemption for me. We're monsters, Luci. And you were right… it's too late for us. But not for them."

Through the mirrored walls, Gabriel watched over Lucifer's shoulder as Castiel ran towards Sam and Dean, only to be stopped by the guards. He smiled as his little brother obliterated all four demons at once, the vermin going up in bright spurts of orange light as they were smote out of existence.

The humans freed, Gabriel wrenched his attention back to Lucifer, but the momentary distraction had cost him dearly. The Devil was on him before Gabriel could swing his blade, rage and fire in Lucifer's eyes as he bodily slammed Gabriel back into one mirrored wall. Shattered glass rained down as the Trickster grunted from the force of the attack. Though he fought to get his sword back up in time, Lucifer caught his wrist easily. Gabriel couldn't struggle free, and soon his brother had him pinned to the wall by both wrists.

"Uh…" the younger archangel grumbled, glancing up at his trapped hands and trying to wriggle out of his brother's grip. "You know I was kidding about that Fifty Shades thing, right?"

Lucifer cast his brother a glower, unimpressed. His mottling face made the look even more sinister and evil, though Gabriel's probably looked no better. The entire mind realm was quaking nonstop by now, with nothing working to hold the vessel together. They were burning it out, too much energy for the frail, breakable form to contain.

The Devil's grip on Gabriel tightened, making the Trickster grit his teeth against the pain. When Lucifer gave both his wrists a vicious twist, though, he couldn't help but grunt in discomfort as his blade clattered to the crumbling floor.

"Time for us to part ways, little brother-"

_"Gabriel!"_

Light suffused through the mind-room, tinged with an electric blue as it poured into Gabriel. Cas… the angel was giving _him_ strength, a hand on their vessel's head as Cas shoved his own grace in as an offering to the archangel. Though sweat dripped down the angel's face at how far he was over-extending himself, he didn't stop until Gabriel had enough power to force an explosion of grace outwards, sending Lucifer reeling back.

The Devil's eyes narrowed.

"But first…" he snarled, slamming Gabriel into the wall again hard enough that the archangel slid down to the floor, stunned. The vessel was put back on its feet as Lucifer took control. He threw Castiel to the ground then picked up the long sword, poised to strike with a sneer on his face. "Goodbye, Castiel."

"No!" Dean shouted from somewhere nearby, filling Gabriel's vision as he slid in between Lucifer and the fallen angel, shielding him from the strike that would kill them both.

It was a stupid move, Gabriel mused. Dean _knew_ his body wouldn't be enough to protect Cas. And yet, the human would die… willingly… just because Cas was his friend. Gabriel shook his head and stood. These humans never failed to amaze.

Like he'd told Lucifer, this wasn't about personal redemption. One act wouldn't absolve him from thousands of years of bloodshed, but all Gabriel needed was two minutes of incredible strength to protect the world from far worse destruction than he'd ever wrought.

Lucifer had the Mark, but Gabriel had a little brother to fight for and the entire human race to protect. And Lucifer had made the one mistake he'd claimed he never would: he had underestimated Gabriel.

The sword was an inch from Dean's sternum when Lucifer froze. For a second, he stood slack as each archangels' will vied for control. Then, the blue eyes glowed with a flash of gold, and the next voice to speak through the vessel's mouth was Gabriel's.

"You know where my heart truly lies, right, Luci?"

The sword wavered, then turned.

"With _you_ , bro," Gabriel whispered, full of sadness. "Right here."

When the blade stabbed straight through his chest, Gabriel didn't even scream.

* * *

Castiel flowed out of his vessel and into Gabriel's, feeling odd. There was no human inside of it; like Castiel, Gabriel had been resurrected from the dead with the original occupant's soul long gone. It was one thing to inhabit Jimmy Novak's empty body, a vessel that Castiel had worn for quite some time, but this one was unfamiliar to him.

Not that he had time to dwell on such things. For a moment, Castiel could only sit there, gasping for breath and staring at his own body looking back at him. From the outside, with the vessel sitting completely slack and dormant, no one would know the terrible battle raging in the mind-realm.

The sound of chains clanging on the ground in desperation brought him back. Castiel swallowed and lifted his head. Dean… Sam. They needed him. But he was so weak… after being held prisoner for so long with his grace an open vat for Lucifer to dip into whenever he pleased, Castiel could barely feel his own inner power.

But he _did_ feel something. Castiel frowned, closing his eyes as a warm, golden energy trickled to his center. It heated him, energized him, perhaps not to his full strength but at least enough that Castiel felt able to move. Of course… this was an archangel's vessel. There were traces of Gabriel everywhere, small splinters of his grace left behind that a warrior as powerful as Gabriel wouldn't even miss, but which boosted Castiel considerably.

Gritting his teeth, the angel heaved himself up and stumbled towards his two best friends. To see them treated like this enraged Castiel, the indignity that Lucifer would force upon them. It had angered him for even Crowley—a _demon—_ to be so dehumanized. And if Lucifer had been allowed to continue with his plans for the boys…

Castiel shuddered, pushing the nightmare visions from his mind.

"What're you doing?" an uncertain voice asked. The four demons hurried back around, blocking Castiel's view of Dean and Sam, but they didn't attack. The five stared at each other. The vermin couldn't see his true face within the vessel, couldn't tell the difference between him and Gabriel. In the time that Castiel had been able to watch what was happening, he'd realized without much surprise that the demons seemed to like Gabriel, and at the very least were smarter than to attack an archangel.

"Grady, put his Majesty's new pets in their kennel," one of the demons ordered another, sparking another fiery tongue of fury in Castiel. "Sir, you… you can't come near the dogs. Not until his Majesty-"

Gabriel's bits of grace powered Castiel, leaving him strong enough to raise a hand. He wasted no time with words, no point in setting the record straight. The angel's eyes burned with righteous fury as he directed all his power at the four demons. They didn't even have time to scream before their empty shells dropped to the ground, still sparking.

Castiel didn't hesitate, running over to the two captured hunters.

"Gabriel?" Sam asked uncertainly, as Castiel set a hand on each of their spiked collars. He forced more power into the metal, causing it to whine and then fall apart.

"He's fighting Lucifer," Castiel assured him. "It's me, Sam."

"Cas!"

It was the work of a moment to rip the manacles off their wrists, allowing the two humans to jump back up to their feet. As soon as Dean was up, he grabbed Castiel's arms, leaning down slightly to meet his eyes.

"You alright?" he demanded. "Cas, are you okay?"

No. Not even a little. But there was no time for that, so Castiel pulled away instead of answering. "Lucifer can't be killed," he reminded them. "Gabriel needs help."

"I'll see if there's a weapon here!" Sam yelled, hurrying to the pile of discarded artifacts that the archangels had decided against for Amara. The angel nodded, but he was already rushing back to his stationary vessel. Gabriel had risked so much to keep him afloat; Castiel wouldn't hesitate to do the same.

 _"Gabriel,"_ he prayed, placing a palm flat on his vessel's forehead, pushing some of his restored grace back into his brother. It wasn't much, possibly not even worth the effort, but Castiel had to try. For a second, he wasn't sure if anything was even happening, until the vessel suddenly moved.

Lucifer glared at him out of Jimmy's blue eyes as he stood, and Castiel couldn't stumble back fast enough to avoid the Devil's furious hands. The archangel grabbed him, throwing Castiel down to the ground at his feet. Weakened as he was, Castiel couldn't muster the strength to get back up, and Lucifer's sword was already pointed at him.

"Goodbye, Castiel," Lucifer hissed with a sneer.

It was just as well, the angel thought with dull resignation. He had never expected to survive this ordeal anyway…

"No!"

And then Dean was there. Castiel gasped as the hunter flung himself between him and Lucifer, kneeling over him as a shield, though Dean must surely know it was useless. The angel tried to push Dean away, but the Winchester refused to be moved. Lucifer's eyes lit with delight at this chance to kill them both with one blow… but the strike never landed.

Wide-eyed, Castiel watched his vessel's face as Lucifer froze. The eyes emptied. Then, there was a flash of gold.

"You know where my heart truly lies, right, Luci?"

Gabriel! Castiel gaped, watching as the sword that hovered only an inch away from Dean suddenly turned, lethal point aiming back at the vessel.

"With _you_ , bro. Right here."

And then he struck.

Castiel couldn't tear his eyes away, staring with horror as Lucifer—and Gabriel—sparked with explosive grace from what should have been a killing blow. Only the Mark was keeping them alive, the vessel and both true forms struck by the sword. The eyes shifted between fury and calm as Lucifer and Gabriel battled for control.

"What…" Dean gasped, scrambling back and pulling Castiel with him. "Did he just…"

An unearthly shriek burst from Lucifer's mouth, but it was cut off as Gabriel snatched the reins again.

" _NOW_ , Samsquatch!" the archangel shouted, voice tight with agony. "Try it now! Cas, get the Lantern, open it! I'm gonna try to push him out!"

Of course… the Lantern was built to hold light, and Lucifer, in his truest form, was in essence precisely that. It would serve as a vessel, at least for a few moments before the Devil worked himself free. Nodding, Castiel pushed himself up in the unfamiliar vessel and hurried to gather the Lantern that Gabriel had used on Amara.

"Nos invocatus Nomine Domini," Sam began grimly, abandoning his search for a weapon. "Exorcizamus archangeli Lucifer et proice abs vas. Nos invocatus Nomine Domini…"

Sam was clever, Castiel thought, to have modified the exorcism to target Lucifer specifically. Perhaps this just might work. "Dean! Sam!" he called. "Shut your eyes or you'll be blinded!" He waited until he was sure both humans had their eyes tightly closed before pulling the shield back from the Lantern. A ferocious wind whirled in, pulled towards the heavenly weapon. The flames in the chamber flew from their sconces, streaking into the Lantern and leaving them in darkness.

"Exorcizamus archangeli Lucifer!" Sam shouted over the noise of the whirlwind that was forming. "Et proice abs vas! Nos invocatus…"

"Keep going!" Gabriel gasped out through gritted teeth. His eyes burned a brilliant white, throat starting to glow as gleaming grace was pushed ever closer up to his mouth. Between the exorcism, Gabriel's strength, and the mortal wound that weakened the Devil, Lucifer was slowly but surely being pulled from the vessel.

But the blow had also weakened Gabriel. Castiel saw his eyes flick back to steely chips of ice, as Lucifer fought his way back to the top. Though Castiel had practically nothing left to give, his own grace a sputtering flame on the verge of being snuffed out completely, he darted forward and pressed his hand to Gabriel's forehead again. He willed what little he had to pass to his brother, knowing that this fight was more important than his own well-being.

The move nearly caused him to pass out, but it was enough for Gabriel to wrestle control back.

"Thanks… Cas… Almost got 'im…"

"-et proice abs vas. Nos invocatus Nomine Domini, exorcizamus archangeli Lucifer!"

With a rushing of wind and a fierce explosion of light in the otherwise pitch-black chamber, Lucifer's angelic presence was forced out of Castiel's old vessel at last. Caught in the vortex, he was sucked into the Lantern with a shriek of unquenchable rage in his wake. The angel slammed the Lantern closed, holding on as tightly as he could while the instrument shook from Lucifer's attempts to escape.

"Cas! We gotta fly!"

Gabriel didn't even stop to acknowledge their victory. He was already on the move, grabbing Castiel with one hand and taking off with a heavy flurry of wings.

With his own wings useless, the angel let his brother carry both of them through the Void and into the wastelands of Hell. It was all he could do just to hold onto the Lantern, and the shrieks that emerged from it like a rabid banshee made Castiel's heart pound with terror. If Lucifer broke free…

No, it didn't bear thinking about.

Castiel's eyes were streaming from the sting of Hellfire and sulfur, and the deeper they hurtled through the Pit, the harder it became to see through the smog. No one stopped to challenge them, though whether this was because of the grim archangel leading the charge or the animalistic sounds of Lucifer's screams, Castiel couldn't say.

All he knew was that when they finally reached the Cage in the heart of Hell, Castiel had never been more desperate to taste fresh air and feel the sun on his skin… to know _safety_.

Castiel couldn't remember what it felt like, to be safe, even for just a moment.

"Just chuck the whole thing in!" Gabriel shouted as they stood staring up at the crackling barrier of the Cage.

"I- I can't hold him!" Castiel cried out as the Lantern nearly pitched itself straight out of the death grip he had on it. He fumbled to catch it in time, eyes widening as a rhythmic banging sound from within told him that Lucifer was throwing himself against the Lantern's door, and very soon he would break free.

Gabriel grabbed the Lantern as well, shouting in exertion and panting hard. Even with the two of them combined, Lucifer was clearly having none of this. Though they were inching towards the Cage, it wasn't nearly fast enough.

And then… another force joining the mix, not pushing the Lantern towards the Cage… _pulling_ it in. Something was straining to reel him in, a greedy, nameless pull. Castiel could feel it but didn't know and didn't _want_ to know what it was, sitting inside the Cage, sucking Lucifer back in.

But he had a horrible feeling that whatever it was, it used to be Michael.

With the three strengths working together, they wrestled the Lantern all the way to the wall of the Cage. Finally, with a crackling of energy, the barrier was breached, and the Lantern was sucked inside with Lucifer still trapped. It was over. The Devil was imprisoned, and the Mark with him. Neither he nor Amara would be threatening the world he loved anytime soon.

Weary, Castiel wanted only to collapse, to close his eyes and not open them again. He had finished his job, done what he'd set out to do, and now… the angel was just finished. He was too tired to go on.

"Cas… Cas! Not yet, bro. Hey!"

Castiel didn't even know he had wavered, stumbling into Gabriel, until the archangel was gripping him by both shoulders. "Come on, buddy," Gabriel murmured. "Let's get you home."

No one stopped them. No one even emerged from hiding, fear triumphing over curiosity. Gabriel was able to fly all the way back to the edge of the Void unchallenged, and from there finally spilling back out into the earthly plane.


	16. In the End

Dean was going out of his mind. Though he knew there was a time conversion involved with traveling through Hell—god, he knew all too well—he still thought Cas and Gabriel ought to have been back already. He had relit all the torches lining the wall, after several stubbed toes, and then sat down to twiddle his thumbs. It had been half an hour.

Which, of course, wasn't _that_ long even in Hell. But, still...

"We don't even know that's where they went," Sam pointed out, yet again, which wasn't helpful.

"Where else would Gabriel have flown off to if not to stuff him back in the Cage?" the older hunter demanded. "What if-"

The flutter of wings and the heavy thud made both Winchesters spin back around, eyes wide. Two bloody and bruised vessels were standing there, though who the hell was in what body was beyond Dean at this point. Praying with all his might that neither contained Lucifer, Dean raced forward to grab Cas's shoulders, desperate to have his best friend back.

"Cas?" he demanded, voice breaking. "Buddy, are you-"

" _That_ one, genius." The blue eyes rolled with exasperation, and Dean stumbled back with a grimace. He turned to Gabriel- no… no, it was actually Cas still. The hunter started to reach out, but couldn't help hesitating long enough to ask,

"He's… he's gone?"

Castiel nodded, and damn it was strange to see his solemn expression in Gabriel's golden gaze. "Yes. Lucifer is back in the Cage, and he took the Mark with him. It's over."

"And it looks like you're free, too, Gabriel," Sam pointed out, nodding to the space between the angels. Though the chain that linked them had only been barely visible to the humans, it was completely gone now.

"Thank Dad," Gabriel muttered, but Dean ignored this completely. The only thing that mattered was that Cas was back… and he was free. Lucifer would never be able to get his hands on the angel again.

With no care or concern for who might laugh, Dean grabbed Cas and pulled him in, wrapping his arms around his best friend in fierce protection and exhausted relief. He was back.

Beside them, Gabriel cleared his throat. "Yeah, I hate to break up the love-fest, but… kiddo, I want my body back. Permission to come aboard?"

"Of course," Cas replied, pulling away from Dean awkwardly without attempting to return the hug, though Dean was pretty sure Cas knew by now that he was supposed to. The hunter frowned at the lack of response he'd gotten, the dullness in his friend's gaze, and he traded a quick, worried look with Sam.

"Great," Gabriel grumbled. "Same."

The two Winchesters watched as Cas's beautiful, white stream of light swam out of Gabriel's body and into his proper one. But when Gabriel's grace flowed out of the angel… Dean heard Sam gasp in shock, alarmed by the sight as they both stepped back. Instead of a seamless flow of brilliant white like the first time, they were staring at sputtering, broken bursts of feeble grey.

Neither of them needed to be told that an archangel's grace should not look like that… and Gabriel was dying.

As soon as the Trickster was back in his own body, he collapsed to the floor. "Wooo…" he gasped between heavy breaths. "Uh… okay. Haha, that one, uh… that one hurt."

"Gabriel!" Cas was at his brother's side in seconds, maneuvering the archangel so that his head was cradled in Cas's lap. "Hold on, Gabriel."

"Sorry I can't heal you the rest of the way, kiddo," Gabriel murmured, reaching a shaky hand up but then letting it fall weakly. The archangel blanched ghostly white. "Ah, shit… that sword… really packs a punch."

"But…" Dean said, he and Sam crouching down as well. "Shouldn't the Mark have protected you?" He could see Cas's body was still wounded, but it wasn't bleeding anymore. The Mark was supposed to bring invincibility! Though, Dean could see now that where the Mark had burned clearly before on Cas's arm, there was nothing but blank skin. At least they didn't have _that_ to add to their list of worries.

Gabriel was already shaking his head though, somehow managing to put on a snarky look even through the pain. "The Mark was tied to Lucifer, genius. It only protected me while we shared a body. He'll live, but… I think I'm clocking out, boys."

"No," Cas pleaded, setting two fingers to Gabriel's head. "Just… Hold on." Nothing was happening, and Sam and Dean traded another look as the angel whispered, "This… this might take a minute."

"Cas…" Gabriel pushed his brother's hand away. "It was… an archangel blade… you can't heal that. Besides, you're tapped out." The Trickster let out a wet, rattling laugh and shook his head. "But damn, Cas, I don't usually say this to... angels who aren't me, but... you were awesome, kiddo."

As Cas looked away, eyes closing, Sam reached down to grip Gabriel's arm. "There's gotta be something we can do," he said, frowning with sincerity. "A- a spell, or maybe-"

"Maybe nothing, Samsquatch. There's no… cure for this." Gabriel coughed, blood mixed with grace dribbling out. He dabbed at it with two fingers, then winced. "There was enough healing power stored up in the vessel from the Mark... it kept me alive long enough to... get the job done. But there was never gonna be a trick to… save me. Aww… don't tell me you yahoos are actually gonna _miss_ me."

Cas swallowed. Dean could see the angel's grip tighten on Gabriel, like if he just held on tightly enough, he could physically hold his brother's life safely inside. Dean knew the feeling. But he could see the archangel's eyes dimming, and his own throat constricted painfully. In spite of their history with the Trickster, Dean didn't want this. Gabriel had saved Cas's life. He had saved _all_ of them. Maybe they'd had good reason not to trust him, but the archangel had come through in the end.

"Why did you save me?" Cas whispered, bowing his head. "If you had stayed in your own vessel to fight him, you might not have gotten injured. Why, Gabriel?"

Gabriel coughed again, weakly reaching for Cas's hand. "Three angels… walk into a bar," he whispered. "But only one of 'em went home."

Dean glanced at Sam, who shrugged, equally baffled. It must have meant something to Cas, though, as the angel swallowed hard and squeezed Gabriel's hand tightly. The archangel seemed to be rallying his fading strength, as he took a deep breath and said with a sense of urgency,

"Listen, Cas. You… were never expendable. Of all the angels… only you held on… to what we were supposed to be. If there's _any_ hope for our kind… it's you. It's always been you."

This time, the rattling cough released a puff of graying light. "Gabriel…" Cas pleaded, but the archangel suddenly frowned. His gaze was fixated on something behind Dean's shoulder.

"Wait. _You_?"

Dean felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and he whirled to look behind him, but there was no one there. He glanced back at Gabriel, wondering if the Trickster was going loony. It certainly looked like it, as his mouth split into a broad grin.

" _That's_ where you've been hiding? All this friggin' time? Hah! And they called _me_ a trickster. Cas, you're… never gonna believe this…"

Cas's eyes widened, and he looked up, too. His gaze showed nothing but confusion, though, clearly no more able to see what Gabriel was looking at than the Winchesters.

"But… I'm a monster," Gabriel whispered to whatever he saw. "There's no forgiving me. Why would you…?" He paused, perhaps listening to an answer, perhaps just imagining one. Either way, the archangel's face suddenly crumpled into nearly tearful relief, an expression so out of place that Dean could only stare.

But with one final grin, the archangel turned back to Cas. "That whole clocking out thing? Scratch that. I'll see you again, bro. I promise. And you two… take care of my brother."

And then he was gone, body and all, not even wing-prints left in the Trickster's wake.

* * *

Sam gaped at the space where Gabriel had just been lying, his mind trying to process this. One moment, the archangel had been actively dying, and then… nothing. Literally, just nothing there. Even Cas looked shocked, jumping to his feet and calling out,

"Wait! …God?"

But there was no answer except the quiet crackling of the torches. Sam bit his lip, not sure what to make of this, but the mystery was driven from his mind as Cas listed to the side and then fell. Dean cursed, both of them managing to grab the angel before he hit the ground.

"Cas!" Dean shouted. "Hey… Cas, don't do this, come on, man!"

"He's out cold," Sam muttered, helping his brother lay the angel flat on the floor so he could assess the damage. "Dean, we need to get him home."

"Do you think he's…?"

Sam swallowed. The most pressing visible concern was the stab wound from the sword, which had healed somewhat but still must have been painful. Cas hadn't been in the vessel when the blade had struck, though. "The blades are only lethal because they can hurt the angels' true forms, right?" he pointed out. "So _Cas_ wasn't actually hit… just Gabriel and Lucifer. The vessel is easier for them to heal."

"Then why isn't he healing?" Dean demanded. It was a good question, but then again, they had just fought not only the most powerful force of Darkness in Creation, but also the Devil himself. And that was after Cas had already been kept forcibly weakened, according to Gabriel. Not to mention tortured, mentally and physically.

"He probably just needs time to recover," Sam decided, praying that it was true. He looked around, wary of more demons returning to see what had happened. "But not here. Dean, Gabriel seemed to think Cas would live, and I… I think we just have to trust that."

Sighing, Dean nodded. He sat down on the floor, then lifted Cas's shoulders and pulled him back so that his head could rest in Dean's lap instead of the cold stone, mirroring the angel's earlier position with Gabriel. "Okay," Dean growled. "Sammy, find us some wheels. I'll wait with him."

The last thing Sam wanted was to leave them there, but they needed a car to get back to the bunker. Hesitating only long enough to grab Lucifer's sword and leave it in Dean's grip in case of demons, the younger hunter wrenched himself away and hurried out of the stone chamber.

There was no time to be picky, no time to look far. Sam brought back the first unattended car he came across, eager to get Cas back home. Dean insisted on carrying the unconscious angel out himself, scooping him up with a grunt and following Sam out to the waiting car. Even then, after they had gotten Cas laid out in the backseat, Dean hesitated.

"I can drive," Sam said, soft and understanding. "Why don't you watch him."

Dean glanced at Cas's still form, then glared at Sam. "We gotta get there _today_."

"Dean… I got this."

Finally, Dean relented, clambering into the back seat where he could prop Cas up on his lap again, while Sam hurried around to take the wheel. Neither of them spoke, as the younger hunter pushed the car as fast as he dared go. Cas never stirred. The silence was filled with worry, and the haunting thoughts of how close they had come to losing everything. Panic kept threatening to overtake Sam, as his mind had nothing to keep him distracted from the helpless feeling of Lucifer standing over him, the tightness of the chains around his wrists and neck, the knowledge that he couldn't protect his brother from the horrors he'd already been subjected to, and the fear of what it would do to Cas…

Sam's knuckles stood out white on the steering wheel as he kept the pedal floored. He couldn't give in to the nightmares yet. Dean and Cas were counting on him to get them home.

"Sammy," Dean spoke up from the back, the first break in the silence for hours. "He's… he's getting really warm."

"We're almost there." _Hang on, Cas._

By the time they pulled into the bunker, the angel was sweating profusely, starting to mumble under his breath. Sam could feel the heat radiating out of him as he held Cas long enough for Dean to slip out and take the angel once again. This wasn't normal, Sam thought in alarm. Why was Cas getting worse instead of better?

"Get the door," Dean ordered, hoisting Cas up for a better grip. Sam hurried ahead to pull the heavy metal door open. Together, they maneuvered the angel into the bunker and down the stairs, heading towards the dormitories. The room that Cas stayed in from time to time—the room they'd never bothered to make sure he understood was _his_ —was one of the first doors they reached. Sam once again held it open for Dean to carry their friend inside and lay him carefully on the bed.

Together, they stood back, watching the unconscious angel, not sure what to do now. Sam took a deep breath, suggesting, "First aid?"

"Thought you said his vessel should heal."

"Yeah, but it doesn't look like it really is. We should… I don't know, at least bandage him up so it won't get infected."

Even that only took a few moments of work, and then the Winchesters were back to staring helplessly at the angel who refused to move. With a sigh, Dean dragged a chair over to the side of the bed and muttered, "I'll take the first watch, you go get some-"

"No." Sam blinked back tears that threatened to fill his eyes when Dean gave him a questioning look. He cleared his throat and repeated, "No. I, um… I don't want to fall asleep right now." If he did, he would dream. Sam just wasn't ready to face that yet, knowing what his nightmares would contain.

Fortunately, Dean didn't seem eager for details, and didn't question further. Sam doubted his brother's dreams would be any happier. For once, he hoped they would both simply continue to keep this buried instead of talking about it.

Besides, Sam thought as he looked down at the angel who had been willing to sacrifice everything… they had more important things to worry about.

It was a long night, though, and Cas showed no signs of waking. A fever set in, leaving him pale and clammy, so hot that the hunters could feel it if they leaned in too close. Even once they worked the angel out of his trench coat and dress shirt, he continued to drip with sweat. Worse, though, was when Cas started to thrash on the bed, his mumbles becoming more audible.

"No… please…" he groaned. "Please, don't!"

"Cas!" Dean called out to him, though it did nothing to quiet the angel. The ramblings didn't seem connected to each other, spanning from the bizarre ("Mirrors… all the mirrors are empty…") to the chilling ("Please, leave them alone! They're only _fledglings_!") to the downright heartbreaking ("Dean, they're hurting me. Why- why won't you help me? Do you… hate me now?").

The last one seemed to finally push Dean over the edge, as the older hunter jumped to his feet. "I need a drink," he muttered. "I'll be back with food, Sammy. You gotta eat."

Sam sighed. It would do no good to remind Dean that _he_ would also need actual food at some point. He watched his brother retreat, then turned his attention back to his best friend. Cas's limbs were trembling as he took one of the angel's hands and squeezed.

"Cas," he whispered, not sure whether their friend was in any condition to hear prayers. "It's over. You're safe. You're safe here."

"Sam…" Cas groaned, eyes fluttering open with a haunted look that didn't seem to be seeing his actual surroundings. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, Sam. I did this."

"No, Cas. Lucifer did this." Sam's heart pounded. He forced his voice to remain soothing. "But he can't hurt anyone anymore."

"No. My fault… I broke you. I broke everything. No, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Sam!"

The hunter squeezed Cas's hand tighter, feeling the words like barbs through his heart, as the angel continued, "Don't send me away… please, I- I don't want to do this alone again… but it's my fault. I'm sorry… you're right. Yes, of course I'll… I'll go. But I don't... I don't have anywhere..."

God… what had they done? Though Lucifer's influence had obviously not helped, Sam felt the weight settling on his soul. He and Dean had both sent Cas off on his own, at the two points in his life when the angel needed them more than ever. At the time, he hadn't even stopped to realize that Cas would really be _that_ affected, assuming that it was neither here nor there to the angel where he stayed.

But from the sound of things, they had caused unspeakable damage, abandoning Cas, making him feel expendable and unwanted. No wonder he'd said yes to Lucifer. The young Winchester just prayed that they got the chance to make it up to him. Hearing his best friend deliriously beg to be allowed to stay was more than he could take.

"No." Sam swallowed hard, taking Cas's hand in both of his now. "Don't go. Please, Cas. We'll never send you away again… I promise. Please, come back, Cas."

Again, the angel opened his eyes, staring at Sam without really seeing him. Softly, he whispered, "Everything burns."

Sam nodded. "I know, Cas. I'm sorry. That's just the fever-"

"Hell burns. I'm burning. The bunker is burning. All of it... everything burns and I can't go home."

Oh. Shit. Sam gave Cas another squeeze, assuring him, "I won't let you burn. The bunker's fine. You _are_ home, Cas."

The angel seemed to take some comfort in that, falling still on the soaked bedsheets and closing his eyes. The mumbles and thrashing eased, though he continued to burn with fever. Dean came back in not much later with a tray of soup and the smell of alcohol. Setting the tray down on the edge of the bed, he leaned over to feel the angel's cheek with the back of his hand.

"Why is he still so sick?" he growled. "Figure he got an infection after all? I didn't think he _could_ , but…"

Sam let go of Cas long enough to take the bowl of soup, though he did little more than push the contents around with his spoon. He shrugged. "I'm not sure… but remember how Gabriel said Cas was tapped out? And that Lucifer kept taking his grace to keep him at low power?"

"Yeah?" Dean's hands tightened into fists.

"I think he's trying to heal himself. But with his grace still drained, he's using it faster than it's coming back and the effort is burning him up. And there's…" Sam paused, swallowing. His voice was rough as he finished, "There's no telling how much he has to heal from, or… what all Lucifer did to him."

"So what, we're just supposed to sit here and wait?"

Yes. Unfortunately, that seemed to be exactly what they would have to do. From the various things Cas had been mumbling, Sam was pretty sure that most of the tortures had been emotional and psychological, rather than physical. With any luck, that meant the angel's body would finish healing soon so that he could truly rest and let his grace replenish. But until then… yes. They would sit there and wait.

As long as it took.


	17. Only One Goes Home

Castiel didn't want to wake up. Every part of him hurt and he was too warm, but freezing cold at the same time. It took him a moment to remember why his grace felt so distant, so diminished. He remembered that they had locked the Darkness away. He remembered that he'd given Gabriel permission to enter his body, and he remembered that the archangel had succeeded where Castiel had not, evicting Lucifer from the vessel. He knew they'd taken Lucifer back to Hell, and…

The angel's throat tightened. He remembered Gabriel dying in his arms. Or, perhaps not dying. Even an archangel left marks when their grace burned out for the last time. No, God must have stepped in at last.

That was where memory faded. Castiel thought he could remember snippets of conversation, but nothing else. Had he spoken to Sam, perhaps? Were they still angry with him for freeing Lucifer from the Cage in the first place?

Not knowing where he was frayed the angel's nerves. He could feel a presence beside him, but when he shifted, no one spoke up. The combination of silence and darkness took the angel right back to the prison he'd been isolated in for so long, sending a wave of panic through his mind before he remembered that he was free. Inhaling deeply, Castiel peeled his eyelids open, taking in the scene. The bunker… this was the room in the bunker that he occasionally used when he was invited in. And the presence beside him…

Castiel tilted his head, seeing Sam's mop of hair on top of the covers. He was sitting in the chair beside the bed, and it looked as though he'd decided to rest his head for a second and then fell asleep. Dean was nowhere in sight.

"No," Sam muttered in his sleep, twitching. "No, don't… don't!" He groaned softly and the sound made Castiel's heart sink in his chest. This was his fault. No wonder Dean wasn't there. After everything, he would have deserved no less than for the hunter to never speak to him again. Castiel had endangered Sam, and for Dean, that was the worst of all mortal sins.

Sam twitched again, jerking in response to whatever his nightmares were showing him. Castiel had a pretty fair guess what that might be. He was just trying to decide if he was brave enough to wake the hunter from the nightmare and face his anger when Sam jolted up from the bed with wide eyes. For a second, the two stared at each other without speaking. Then, Sam blinked and took several deep breaths.

"Cas… you're- you're awake," he murmured. The hunter ran a hand through his hair, using the motion to disguise a hasty wipe of his eyes. "How you doing, man?"

Castiel kept staring, feeling hollow. Sam was dreaming of Lucifer. Because of Castiel. He had brought those horrible things back, by allowing the Devil in. He had nearly condemned Sam _and_ Dean to an eternity of every vile torture that Lucifer could concoct.

"I'm sorry," Castiel whispered, surprised again to hear how cracked and broken his voice was. His throat felt raw, burned. Probably Lucifer's grace being forced out had done quite a bit of damage. "…Sorry," the angel choked out again, closing his eyes. He was burning. It was all he deserved, though.

"No," Sam replied, grabbing the angel's arm, but there was gentleness in the gesture instead of threat. "Cas, you've got _nothing_ to apologize for, you hear me?"

"It's my fault. I know what Lucifer did to you-"

"It doesn't matter. Cas, none of that matters. As long as we've got you back." Sam was smiling when the angel opened his eyes, albeit a little pale still, but he seemed to be taking comfort from his grip on Castiel's arm because he didn't let go. The human hesitated, then said, "I'm the one who should be apologizing. Cas, I _never_ meant for you to end up with him."

Castiel shook his head and pushed himself up in the bed, wincing as the motion made his body ache. Sam jumped up to help him, easing the angel to a more comfortable position with the pillows propped behind him. When Castiel glanced down at his torso, he was surprised to see a bandage over the wound from where Gabriel had stabbed himself. Gabriel…

"My memory… it's fuzzy," he admitted. "Did Gabriel… is he…?"

Sam looked away, regret clear in his face. "We're not sure, honestly," he admitted. "We think maybe… God stepped in to take him away. Dean swears he felt _something_ there. But there were no marks from his wings, and I don't think he was in any shape to fly on his own. He said he'd see you again."

"He said a lot of things," Castiel murmured. It was coming back a little. Most of it preposterous, of course. Something about being the only hope for the angels? What was that supposed to mean? How was he supposed to help them when he could barely help himself? Yet, one thing he remembered clearly:

_Three angels walk into a bar. Only one went home._

Gabriel had known all along exactly what he was doing, and for some unfathomable reason had deemed Castiel a worthy exchange for his own life. The angel couldn't wrap his mind around that. He remembered the rest of the story, though, how apparently his deepest desire was a place with Dean and Sam, to belong with them as a family he had lost a long time ago. How easily Gabriel had read him, because that was, indeed, the one thing he wanted more than anything.

"You brought me back to the bunker," Castiel murmured, partly because he wasn't sure what else to say. Sam looked around, then nodded.

"Of course we did. And hey… Dean's here, too, he's not mad or anything. He was going to fix some dinner, that's all. Or at least that's what he said before I dozed off. You've been out for a while." Sam paused. Then, he reached one hand up and settled it against the angel's forehead.

Castiel frowned. "What are you doing?"

Sam jerked his hand back, clearing his throat. "Sorry. Just… you still feel kinda warm."

"It's… hot," Castiel agreed. He shivered, though, not sure why his body felt so odd.

"You've been feverish. I don't know if you got an infection, or…?"

When he trailed off, watching the angel with a questioning look, Castiel shook his head. "No, I don't believe I'm susceptible to human diseases. My grace is low at the moment. But I'm not ill. The fever will pass."

Sam nodded, seeming to accept this. His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he asked, "Cas… how are you doing? I know Lucifer's not exactly gentle."

No. No, he was not. Castiel shrugged, feeling the tiny ball of grace in his chest thrumming away, recovering a miniscule bit at a time. "I wasn't allowed to recharge fully," the angel explained. "He kept taking most of my power away to make sure I couldn't fight him. It was… exhausting. I imagine it'll take some time to recover completely." He caught Sam's eye, then hung his head. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a burden. I don't need it fully replenished to survive, so you can have the room back-"

"What?" Sam interrupted, eyes widening. "Cas, no! No, this is _your_ room, we don't want it back. You're not a burden. I meant how _are_ you, after everything you went through. It's just… I know Lucifer will try to mess with your head. He tried to convince me of all kinds of things that weren't true, so I just thought… if there's anything I can clear up…?"

Castiel didn't raise his head. His mind flashed through all the things that Lucifer had shown him… being trapped in a cage, watching other angels be tortured, Sam and Dean offering him up to the demons, the bunker burning down around him, his own hands attacking the two Winchesters and their hatred for him because of it…

"The bunker?" he finally asked, still hoarse.

Sam reached over to the bedside table where a glass of water sat. He offered it to the angel, who took it and drank with relief at the cool sensation soothing his raw throat. "Earlier," Sam started, watching him, "you said something about it burning?"

"He used that one several times," Castiel admitted. "I was afraid perhaps he was using it to weaken my defenses and inch further into my mind, perhaps figure out its secrets so he could attack. I tried to keep all information of it locked away, but…"

Sam gave him a sad smile and shook his head. "He never got in once we figured out he'd taken you," he assured the angel. "We took down all the warding after bringing you back. No sign of him, or anyone else. You did good, Cas. Hell, you were… incredible. As much as you suffered, and you _still_ just kept fighting. I mean, anyone else would've given up. But not you. You saved us, man, you really did. And don't worry about the bunker. It's still safe."

Safe. Even now, Castiel couldn't feel safe. The only time in his life he'd ever felt truly and utterly at ease had been the one night he'd spent here as a human, thinking he would be able to stay forever, only to be removed the very next morning. He was a soldier; there'd been no such thing as safety before that, or since. Not that he could fault Dean in the slightest, of course.

"And, did I…" Castiel swallowed, not sure he could handle the answer, if it wasn't favorable. "Did I… hurt you? Or Dean?"

His heart clenched when Sam looked away, but the hunter only shook his head. "No," he murmured. "You didn't."

The angel exhaled in shaky relief, though he still couldn't relax. At the time, it had been easy to know what was real and what wasn't, that Sam and Dean and the young fledglings and the bunker were all safe. Now, the warrior was desperate for that reassurance.

"Cas, you know we don't blame you for _any_ of it, right?" Sam asked now. "You know, you were talking in your sleep, and… well, you said some things."

"I'm sorry," the angel immediately said, but Sam waved him off.

"No. Please, Cas, please stop apologizing. It just made me realize how much you might think _we_ hold against you. You said you… broke everything. Cas, we've _all_ broken things. But you've gone above and beyond to help us put everything back together again, every single time. Even when it wasn't your fault. Even when we would have deserved it if you'd left us, but you never did."

Castiel wasn't sure what to say to that. It- it felt good to hear… even if he didn't quite have enough optimism to believe it yet. His eyelids fluttered closed again, though he tried to force them to stay open. Beside him, he heard Sam's voice, soothing and comfortingly _present_ , urging,

"Rest, Cas. You're exhausted. Sleep it off… we'll be here when you wake up."

* * *

Castiel didn't remember having actually fallen back asleep, but when he woke again, most of the uncomfortable heat had dissipated, and Dean was watching him from the other side of the bed. As soon as Castiel met his gaze, the hunter sat up straighter with an expression of relief.

"Cas?" he asked. "God, I was getting worried, buddy. How do you feel? Do you need to eat? You know, how's your, um… your grace doing?"

The angel looked from Dean to his other side, where Sam was quickly putting his book down and leaning in closer as well. Castiel made a mental sweep of his body, finding little left to be healed. He still felt far too weak, but at least he was no longer burning. With the fever gone, the confusion that had settled over his mind cleared away as well. Though he didn't precisely need to eat, he did feel empty. He just wasn't sure it was something that food would fill.

"I'll be fine," he said. "I believe my body is mostly healed now. I don't need food."

"You're sure? I can whip up some more soup. Or… what about a PB&J?"

Castiel shook his head. "No. Thank you." Suddenly, the walls felt just a little too close. After being trapped in one position for what Castiel assumed had been months—though he actually wasn't sure how long he had been held captive—sitting still was making him anxious. The angel was still exhausted, and really didn't feel up to much, but he also wasn't sure how long he could remain in that room, in that bed, before losing his mind.

He could see the Winchesters exchanging a swift look as his own gaze fluttered around the room, unfocused but full of nervous energy. When Dean cleared his throat, Castiel instinctively braced himself.

"So, uh, the fever broke about an hour ago."

"Cas, can we check the bandage?" Sam asked, holding up a hand but not moving it towards Castiel until he'd nodded. The younger hunter nodded back, then carefully peeled aside the dressing. There was still a red mark where Gabriel had stabbed himself, but the wound was closed up and the surrounding skin was pink and, Castiel assumed, healthy looking.

"Whoa, that's way better than before," Dean told him with a raised eyebrow. "Think you can move?"

Castiel nodded without a word. He pushed himself up in the bed as evidence, not feeling the same soreness as the first time he had tried it. Physically, this was an obvious improvement.

"Okay, well…" Dean went on, trading another quick look with Sam. "Good. We haven't wanted to leave with you still asleep, but now that you're up… why don't you come for a drive with me? We, uh… we need to talk."

Castiel's heart sank, throat tightening in anguish. Right. He was on the mend now, he could handle himself from here. It wasn't that he'd actually believed the two would want him to stay, but the angel had held onto the selfish hope that he would at least have a little more time before they decided to drop him off somewhere. Just a little bit more time to spend in the one place he'd ever felt safe in, even if only for one night. But he certainly wasn't going to refuse, when it was probably for the best.

"Okay," Castiel whispered. "Um…" The angel looked around, arms wrapping around himself. "Would it be alright if… can I at least have my coat?"

Dean's forehead wrinkled up in confusion. "Huh? Yeah, of course. It's right over here with your shirt. We only took it off so we could bandage you up."

"Thank you." And truly, he _was_ grateful, as he wasn't exactly entitled to the stolen coat. "It's just… it's all I have." Perhaps it was silly to want it so badly; Castiel couldn't actually get cold as long as he was an angel, but it felt like a part of him, his identity. The idea of being alone was hard enough. To do it without even that much was more than he could stand.

Sam had moved to grab the shirt and trench coat, but now he clutched them with a white-knuckled hand, frozen halfway to giving them back to the angel. His eyes were flooded with horror as he gasped and exclaimed,

"Wait… Cas, you're coming back with Dean!"

"What the- I'm not gonna _leave_ you out there!" Dean protested, sounding equally horrified, and a little sick. "Cas, no, I'm not just gonna drive you out somewhere and ditch you! I just wanted to bring the Impala back and figured you could probably use some fresh air!"

"Oh." The relief was so immediate, so immense, that Castiel felt his body loosen a bit from the tension he'd been holding in, the fear that they would once again ask him to leave the bunker for good. Not that the angel couldn't make it on his own; he could.

He just didn't want to. Not again.

"Come on," Dean muttered, turning for the door.

Castiel swallowed, reaching for his clothes. The buttons of the shirt were a little difficult to manage as his hands were still stiff, and he didn't bother with the tie at all as he heaved himself off the bed. The room spun a bit, forcing the angel to take a deep breath and wait for it to settle down as Sam grabbed his shoulder to steady him. Once Cas felt like his legs would hold him, he followed Dean out and up the stairs to the front door. He pulled the trench coat on and wrapped it firmly around himself, feeling childish for needing the security blanket but not willing to give it up just yet.

The sun was shining when they stepped out into the open air, so fresh and light that Castiel had to stop and close his eyes. He took a deep breath in, relishing the simple freedom of daylight, of having control over his own body. Dean didn't try to rush him, didn't even shift in impatience. When the angel opened his eyes, his friend was watching him passively, waiting until Castiel moved forward before leading the way to the nondescript car that they must have arrived in.

It was a nearly three hour drive to where the Winchesters had left their car while hunting for a way to defeat Amara and save him. Though Dean had mentioned needing to talk, the trip there was silent. Castiel focused mainly on breathing and holding back any residual feelings of uncertainty or panic. He thought about how hard the Winchesters had fought to come up with any means of rescuing him from Lucifer, and felt minutely better. It only made him feel guiltier for having put them in the position where they might have had to choose between him or the rest of the world, as he was starting to wonder whether it would have been as easy a choice for them as it ought.

But they _had_ been praying all along, never giving up on him, if Gabriel was to be trusted. And… Castiel did trust the archangel. If he truly was still alive, if God had rescued him, then perhaps they would meet again and Castiel could more adequately thank his brother for keeping him going. Had it not been for Gabriel's intervention in his solitude, the soothing distraction of his voice, Castiel knew he would have lost himself. And, he'd heard how fiercely Sam had maintained that they would do anything to save him. He'd heard how stubbornly Dean had tried to reach him every time he was faced with Lucifer, just in case Castiel was able to listen. More, Dean had dove in front of the _Devil_ to shield Castiel with his own body.

And even now, they weren't trying to send him away as they had done before.

Castiel didn't know what to think.

Collecting the Impala and turning it back towards the bunker was another immense relief, not because Castiel was tired of the trip, but because Dean had kept his word and not abandoned him there. The angel also found that the car wasn't nearly as confining as he had once deemed it. Besides, the open road rolling by under the wheels was a more relaxing view than the utter darkness he'd been kept in for so long.

"So," Dean finally said after nearly an hour into the return trip. "How you doing? You good? I mean, you know, the whole Lucifer thing."

Castiel tensed fearing a condemnation for his actions. "I was just… so stupid." And though Amara and Lucifer were gone, his stupidity had endangered his friends.

"No, no, no." Dean sighed and glanced at the angel. "It wasn't stupid. I mean, I hate him for what he did to you, and I would've done anything to protect you from him. I'll never be okay with that. Never."

"Or what he would have done to you," the angel murmured. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again when only pained silence followed. "Dean, I- I'm so sorry. I should be asking if _you're_ alright. I know you heard him… with Sam, I mean. And he _stabbed_ you. I stabbed you. I would understand you being angry-"

"Not at _you_ , Cas. At him. It's fine. I mean, _I'm_ not fine, don't get me wrong. Just like I know you and Sam aren't really _fine_. But I, uh... I really don't wanna talk about that, and none of it was your fault. You know, you did save the world. Me and Sam wouldn't have done it, but you stepped up."

"I was just trying to help," Castiel admitted, voice small and uncertain.

"Well, and you do help, Cas." Dean sighed again. "You know, sometimes me and Sam have got so much going on that… we forget about everyone else."

The angel heard deep regret in his friend's voice. The last thing he wanted was for the Winchesters to feel guilty, so he shook his head. "Well, you do live exciting lives," he offered.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, that's one word for it. But you're always there, you know?" He turned to Castiel, serious but smiling lightly. "You're the best friend we've ever had. You're our brother, Cas. I want you to know that."

Stunned, Castiel didn't even know what to say. Dean, who would spin any line in order to attract a female, who would bullshit his way out of any situation, would not toss out a word like "brother" lightly. True feelings were kept close to the vest, but this echoed with sincerity and authenticity.

He… meant it.

"Thank you." Castiel swallowed hard, fighting back sudden tears. He wasn't sure where they were coming from, as he was no longer in any real pain. His body and spirit had responded to the change of scenery, the sunlight and fresh air doing wonders to healing him the rest of the way. His grace was still struggling to replenish fully, but within a few more days he should be back to full strength, provided he didn't use any of the power he had recovered.

Maybe… maybe things would actually work themselves back together, given time.

"I'm serious," Dean assured him, glancing at the angel again. "I mean, I should have been doing everything I could to make sure you knew that. But it's always been true. God, there's been so much I've just totally screwed up with you. And I know 'sorry' won't do you much good now, but… I just want you to know… I _am_ sorry. And we're gonna do better, me and Sam. I mean, you feeling expendable, that's on us. 'Cause you're not. Never were. And you've got a place with us, always."

Castiel took in a deep breath, not trusting his voice to answer. He nodded, returning Dean's look with silent gratitude. He didn't think there were any words to express the emotions his heart carried, in any case.

Clearing his throat, Dean turned back to face the road. "Anyway. Let's get you home."

Smiling, Castiel twisted to watch the open country pass by. He was still afraid that he would see Lucifer if he closed his eyes, still felt a heaviness on his shoulders as though a yoke were settled there, still worried about his usefulness. He still hated what he had brought down on the Winchesters. Particularly for putting Sam back in an old nightmare, and for introducing Dean to a new one that he hadn't needed to add to his pile.

They would all have a lot of healing to do. Looking up at the sky, Castiel wondered where Gabriel was now… if he was watching, if he was with God, if he was driving their father crazy yet with bad jokes and his outrageous nature.

_Thank you, Gabriel._

He turned back to face front as the two-lane asphalt carried them towards the bunker, a safe-house.

Three angels walked into a bar.

But it was time for Cas to go back home.


End file.
